liiond  St.  Opposite  CitrlalL  i 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


GIFT  OF 

PROFESSOR 
GEORGE  R.  STEWART 


/  s-  ^~c> 


LETTERS 


PRACTICAL  SUBJECTS, 


A  DAUGHTER. 


BY  WILLIAM  B.  SPRAGUE,  D.D. 

PASTOR   OF  THE  SECOND  PRESBTTERIAN  CHURCH  IN  ALBANY. 


ELEVENTH  AMERICAN  EDITION. 

REVISED  AND  ENLARGED  BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE 
AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY, 

150  NASSAU-STREET,  NEW  YORK. 


LETTER  I. 
Introductory, 7 

LETTER  IT. 
Early  Friendships, 12 

LETTER  III. 
Education— General  Directions, 25 

LETTER  lY. 
Education — ^Various  Branches, -  87 

LETTER  Y. 
Education — Domestic  Economy, 52 

LETTER  YL 
General  Reading, 61 

LETTER  YIL 
Independence  of  Mind,         ...        I        ..      82 

LETTER  YIII. 
Forming  the  Manners, 92 

LETTER  IX. 
Conversation, 104 

LETTER  X. 
Amusements, 118 


4  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  XI. 
Intercourse  with  the  World,         .        .        .        .        ,    131 

LETTER  XII. 
Marriage, 141 

LETTER  XIIL 
Forming  Religious  Sentiments, 159 

LETTER  XIY. 
Proper  Mode  of  treating  Religious  Error,    .        .        .    170 

LETTER  XV. 
Practical  Religion, 177 

LETTER  XYL 
Self-Knowledge,  .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .191 

LETTER  XVII. 
Self-Go  vernment,         . 202 

LETTER  XVIIL 
Humility, 213 

LETTER  XIX. 
Devotion,     .        .        .        .        .        .        ,        .        .    221 

LETTER  XX. 
Christian  Benevolence, 229 

LETTER  XXI. 
Christian  Zeal, 240 

LETTER  XXIL 
Improvement  of  Time, 254 

LETTER  XXm. 
Preparation  for  Death, 262 


PREFACE 


The  following  letters  were  originally  de- 
signed to  be  preserved  in  manuscript,  as  a  leg- 
acy to  a  motherless  child.  The  circumstances 
which  have  resulted  in  their  being  given  to  the 
world  it  is  unnecessary  to  state.  It  has  been 
the  design  of  the  writer  to  adapt  the  work,  in 
its  present  form,  to  the  various  exigencies  of  a 
young  female,  and  to  furnish  her  with  counsel 
and  instruction  which  may  be  useful,  not  only 
during  the  period  of  her  education,  but  also  in 
subsequent  life.  Though  the  letters  are  ad- 
dressed to  his  own  child,  he  regards  her  as  tlie 
representative  of  young  females  in  general ;  and 
his  object  in  writing  them  will  be  fully  answered 
if  they  shall  contribute,  in  the  humblest  degree, 
to  elevate  the  standard  of  female  acquisitions 
and  female  character,     The  author  has  only  to 


6 


PREFACE. 


add  his  earnest  prayer  that  they  may  be  read 
with  some  degree  of  advantage  by  young  females 
into  whose  liands  they  may  fall ;  and  especially 
by  those  whom  the  righteous  providence  of  God 
has  deprived  of  the  benefit  of  maternal  care  and 
instruction. 


PRACTICAL  SUBJECTS. 


LETTER  I. 


INTRODUCTORY. 

My  dear  Child — -It  is  for  the  heart  of  the  parent 
alone,  adequately  to  conceive  of  the  tender  responsi- 
bilities that  belong  to  the  parental  relation.  It  is 
impossible,  if  he  have  the  feelings  of  a  man — ^much 
more  of  a  Christian — that  he  should  contemplate  a 
beloved  child  coming  forward  into  life,  and  beginning 
a  career  for  eternity,  without  agitating  in  his  own 
bosom  the  question,  what  the  probable  condition  of 
that  child  may  be  in  the  future  stages  of  existence. 
And,  if  I  mistake  not,  there  are  some  special  reasons 
why  the  sohcitude  of  a  parent  should  be  awakened  by 


8  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

contemplating  the  condition  of  a  daughter  during  the 
critical  period  to  which  I  have  referred.  In  addition  to 
all  the  other  circumstances  which  render  her  an  cbject 
of  deep  interest,  and  in  which  she  shares-  in  common 
with  children  of  the  other  sex,  she  is,  in  a  higher  de- 
gree than  they,  dependent  on  parental  aid  :•  there  is  a 
sort  of  natural  defencelessness  in  her  condition,  inde- 
pendently of  the  fostering  care  of  those  from  whom, 
under  God,  she  received  her  being,  that  makes  an  ap- 
peal to  a  parent's  heart,  which,  if  it  be  not  a  heart  of 
stone,  he  will  strive  in  vain  to  resist. 

If  I  should  say  that  the  common  feelings  of  parental 
solicitude  have  something  to  do  in  dictating  the  plan 
of  addressmg  the  following  letters  to  you,  I  should 
certainly  tell  you  the  truth,  but  not  the  whole  truth ; 
for  your  circumstances,  though  by  no  means  peculiar 
to  yourself,  have  been  preeminently  fitted  to  give  you 
a  high  place  not  only  in  the  affections,  but  the  sympa- 
thies of  yaur  father.  It  was  my  lot,  in  the  wise  but 
mysterious  providence  of  God,  to  see  your  mother 
taken  from  you  at  an  age  when  you  were  incapable 
of  estimating  her  affection  or  your  loss ;  and  to  find 
myself  at  the  same  moment  looking  for  the  last  time 
on  the  cold  remains  of  a  beloved  wife,  and  listening  to 
the  unconscious  but  piercing  cries  of  a  motherless  child. 
While  I  shall  always  remember  that  moment  with 
emotions  not  to  be  told,  I  can  never  fail  to  connect 
with  it  a  recollection  of  the  goodness  of  G  od  in  order- 
ing so  favorably  the  circumstances  of  your  infancy, 


INTRODUCTORY.  9 

and  in  giving  you,  in  due  time,  another  mother,  who 
counts  it  a  privilege  to  do  her  utmost  to  make  you 
good  and  useful  and  happy.  You  will  instantly  per- 
ceive that  the  circumstances  to  which  I  have  now 
adverted,  could  hardly  fail  to  awaken  a  deep  and 
permanent  interest  in  a  father's  heart ;  and  I  assure 
you  they  have  had  much  to  do  in  bringing  me  to  the 
resolution  to  write  the  following  letters. 

That  you  may  be  the  better  prepared  to  estimate 
the  importance  of  the  various  topics  to  which  I  intend, 
in  these  letters,  to  direct  your  attention,  I  beg  you  to 
remember  that  what  you  are  at  the  age  of  eighteen  or 
twenty,  you  probably  will  be,  making  due  allowance 
for  the  change  of  circumstances,  in  every  future  period 
of  life.  In  other  words,  your  character  will  by  that 
time,  in  all  probability,  have  acquired  a  fixed  direction — ■ 
a  direction  which  will  last  through  all  the  scenes  of 
your  prosperity  and  adversity  to  your  dying  hour ; 
which  will  influence  and  control  all  your  prospects  as 
it  respects  comfort,  respectability,  and  usefulness  here  ; 
and  which  will  go  farther,  and  shed  upon  your  pros- 
pects for  a  future  world  the  brightness  of  immortal 
glory,  or  the  blackness  of  endless  despair.  I  admit 
that  there  are  many  exceptions  from  this  remark  ;  but 
I  appeal  to  the  records  of  human  experience,  I  appeal 
to  the  observation  of  any  individual  who  has  been 
accustomed  carefully  to  notice  facts  on  this  subject, 
whether  the  general  truth  be  not  as  above  stated: 
that  in  the  great  majority  of  cases,  the  character  of 


10  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

a  young  female,  at  the  close  of  her  education,  is  formed 
for  life — of  course,  formed  for  eternity.  I  am  sure 
this  consideration  cannot  fail,  if  you  duly  estimate  it, 
to  give  deep  interest  to  every  effort,  and  especially 
every  parental  effort,  that  is  made  to  lead  you  to 
virtue  and  happiness. 

I  am  aware  that  much  has  been  written  on  the 
subjects  upon  which  I  am  to  address  you,  and  with  a 
degree  of  abihty  to  which  I  can  make  no  claim. 
Nevertheless,  I  am  constrained  to  say  that  most  ol 
the  books  with  which  I  am  acquainted,  designed  for 
the  special  benefit  of  young  females,  have  seemed  to 
me  either  deficient  in  some  important  topics  of  instruc- 
tion, or  to  contain  views  on  some  other  points  from 
which  an  intelligent  Christian  parent  would  be  com- 
pelled to  dissent.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  intimate  that 
I  expect  in  these  letters  to  supply  all  the  deficiencies, 
or  correct  all  the  mistakes,  of  those  wl^o  have  gone 
before  me :  I  only  promise  that  the  views  which  I 
communicate  shall  be  such  as,. after  mature  reflection, 
and  I  trust  I  may  add,  earnest  prayer,  appear  to  me 
to  be  consonant  with  reason,  experience,  and  Scripture. 
I  have  no  ambition  to  say  any  thing  that  shall  appear 
new  or  striking,  but  my  whole  object  is  to  give  you 
plain  parental  advice  on  topics  which  do  not  lose  their 
importance  with  their  novelty.  And  it  is  a  thought 
upon  which  I  dwell  with  some  interest,  that  though 
you  might  read  the  writings  of  a  stranger  with  indif- 
ference, you  will  peruse  these  letters  with  attention 


INTRODUCTORY.  11 

and  perhaps  advantage,  when  the  heart  that  dictates 
them  shall  have  ceased  to  beat,  and  the  hand  by  which 
they  are  penned  shall  have  mouldered  into  dust. 

I  hardly  need  tell  you  that  my  first  wish  and  most 
fervent  prayer  on  your  behalf  is,  that  you  may  remem- 
her  your  Creator  in  the  days  of  your  youth.  Unless 
you  embrace  the  gospel  as  a  redeeming  and  purifying 
system — in  other  words,  unless  you  become  a  practical 
follower  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  it  would  profit  you 
nothing  in  the  end,  though  you  should  have  every 
other  accomphshment  which  can  adorn  your  character 
or  recommend  you  to  the  world.  In  the  progress  of 
these  letters,  I  shall  dwell  on  the  subject  of  practical 
religion  with  some  degree  of  particularity ;  and  I  wish 
you  distinctly  to  remember,  while  I  am  directing  your 
attention  to  other  subjects,  that  they  are  all  subordi- 
nate to  this.  To  see  you  walking  in  the  truth  and 
keeping  the  commandments  of  God,  will,  more  than 
any  thing  else,  gladden  the  heart  of 

Your  affectionate 

FATHER. 


12^  LETTERS  TO  A   DAUOHTER. 


My  dear  Child — The  development  of  the  social 
principle  is  one  of  the  earliest  exhibitions  of  human 
nature.  This,  in  connection  with  the  benevolent  affec- 
tions, constitutes  the  foundation  of  friendship.  Hence 
we  find  that  strong  attachments  often  exist  between 
children,  long  before  the  judgment  is  sufficiently  de- 
veloped to  decide  in  respect  to  the  qualities  which 
should  enter  into  the  character  of  a  friend.  A  glance 
at  your  own  short  experience  will  convince  you  that 
it  has  been  conformed  to  this  law  of  our  condition. 
You  will  find  on  a  review  of  your  childhood,  that  you 
have  formed  many  friendships  without  much  discrimi- 
nation, some  of  which  may  have  already  given  place 
to  others ;  while  some,  perhaps,  may  continue  to  the 
evening  of  life. 

The  importance  of  early  friendships  is  to  be  estimated 
by  the  influence  which  they  exert  in  forming  the  charac- 
ter. That  this  influence  must  be  very  great,  no  one 
can  question  who  has  considered  either  the  constitution 
of  Our  nature,  or  the  actual  results  which  are  found  in 
experience.     We  are  originally  constituted  creatures 


EARLY  FRIENDSHIPS.  13 

of  habit,  subject,  in  a  high  degree,  to  the  influence  of 
example  ;  and  though  many  of  the  impressions  which 
the  mind  receives  in  childhood  are  necessarily  worn 
out  in  its  progress  to  maturity,  yet  those  which  remain 
are  wrought  into  the  very  texture  of  the  character, 
and  become  the  most  efficient  principles  of  action. 
Every  person  who  attentively  examines  his  own  charac- 
ter, or  who  is  intimately  acquainted  with  the  process 
by  which  the  characters  of  others  have  been  formed, 
will  find  sufficient  proof  of  the  reality  and  extent  of 
this  influence.  Who  has  not  heard,  on  witnessing  the 
wreck  of  parental  hopes  in  a  ruined  and  wretched 
child,  that  it  was  the  melancholy  result  of  bad  early 
associations  ?  And  who,  on  the  other  hand,  has  not 
watched  with  delight  the  benign  influence  of  a  virtuous 
friendship  upon  the  unfolding  faculties  of  the  mmd  and 
dispositions  of  the  heart  ? 

If  so  much  importance  be  attached  to  the  friend- 
ships which  you  form  in  early  life,  you  will  at  once 
perceive  that  the  choice  of  your  friends  ought  to  be  a 
matter  of  the  most  deliberate  caution ;  for  though 
your  earliest  attachments  must  necessarily  result  from 
circumstances  not  within  your  control,  yet,  in  respect 
to  those  which  are  formed  subsequently  to  the  period 
of  childhood,  you  may  call  to  your  aid  judgment  and 
reflection.  A  rule  on  this  subject  which  you  should 
never  fail  to  observe  is,  not  too  hastily  to  proffer  your 
confidence — ^not  to  consent  to  an  unreserved  intimacy 
with  any  one,  till  you  Ijave  gained  a  thorough  know- 


U  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

ledge  of  the  character.  The  effect  of  disregarding  this 
rule  would  be,  to  lower  the  estimate  which  would  be 
formed  of  your  friendship,  to  expose  you,  at  least,  to 
the  charge  of  imprudence,  and  not  improbably,  to 
many  more  serious  evils.  You  may  safely  calculate 
that  considerable  suspicion  is  to  be  attached  to  pro- 
fessions which  are  made  by  those  who  have  had  little 
opportunity  to  know  you  ;  while  you  may  reasonably 
expect,  on  the  other  hand,  that  a  friendship  which  is 
the  result  of  an  intimate  acquaintance,  will  be  a  lasting 
source  of  pleasure  and  advantage. 

In  respect  to  the  character  of  your  particular  friends, 
I  hardly  need  say  that  you  -are  not  to  expect  to  find 
those  who  are  free  from  imperfection  or  sin.  You  will 
recollect  that  in  common  with  yourself,  they  belong  to 
a  race  of  fallen  beings  ;  and  it  would  be  strange  indeed, 
if  there  should  not  be  occasion,  both  on  your  part 
and  theirs,  for  mutual  condescension  to  each  other's 
infirmities,  and  mutual  forgiveness  of  each  other's 
errors.  Nevertheless,  in  the  selection  of  your  friends, 
you  may  safely  place  your  standard  as  high  as  is  con- 
sistent with  our  present  fallen  state  ;  and  you  ought,  in 
no  case,  unnecessarily  to  contract  an  intimate  friendship 
with  one  whose  example,  on  the  whole,  you  would  not 
choose  to  imitate ;  for  this  obvious  reason,  that  the 
tendency  of  such  a  friendship  to  assimilate  its  subjects 
is  so  strong,  that  there  is  little  probability,  in  any 
given  case,  of  its  being  counteracted. 

One  quality  which  is  of  great  importance  in  an 


EARLY  FRIENDSHIPS.  15 

intimate  friend,  is  an  amiable  temper.  Every  one 
knows  how  much  of  the  unhappiness  of  life  results 
from  the  haughty  irritable,  and  unkind  feelings  of 
those  with  whom  we  are  even  remotely  associated  ;  of 
course,  the  evil  becomes  greater  in  proportion  to  the 
nearness  of  the  relation  which  we  sustain  to  them.  A 
person  of  an  unamiable  temper  was  never  formed 
either  to  enjoy  or  impart  the  highest  pleasure  con- 
nected with  friendship  ;  for  though  one  of  this  charac- 
ter may  be  sincerely  attached  to  you,  and  may  be,  on 
the  whole,  quite  desirous  of  promoting  your  happiness, 
it  would  be  passing  strange  if  your  intercourse  with 
her  should  not  frequently  be  imbittered  by  hasty  or 
unkind  expressions.  I  advise  you  therefore,  in  the 
selection  of  your  friends,  to  have  particular  reference 
to  the  natural  disposition ;  and  as  a  general  rule,  not 
to  admit  to  your  unreserved  confidence  any  who  would 
be  likely  often  to  wound  your  sensibility,  and  whose 
feelings  are  not,  and  cannot  be  attuned  to  the  enjoy- 
ments of  a  refined  friendship. 

Another  trait  which  it  is  desirable  that  your  inti- 
mate friends  should  possess,  is  a  good  and  cultivated 
understanding.  I  do  not  mean  that  you  are  to  con- 
sider it  indispensably  requisite  that  a  friend  should  be 
possessed  of  uncommon  genius,  or  should  have  made 
great  attainments  in  any  of  the  departments  of  science 
or  literature ;  but  there  is  a  wide  difference  between 
the  accomplishments  of  which  I  now  speak,  which  fall 
to  the  lot  of  comparatively  few,  and  that  intellectual 


16      ^  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

barrenness  wMch  must  oppose  an  effectual  barrier  to 
all  pleasant  or  useful  intercourse.  One  important 
purpose  which  you  ought  to  propose  to  yourself  in  an 
intimate  friendship,  is  the  culture  of  the  understanding ; 
for  besides  the  advantages  for  improvement  which  are 
connected  with  an  unreserved  intercourse,  it  would  be 
obviously  wrong  that  so  much  time  as  that  intercourse 
would  probably  occupy,  should  be  spent  without  con- 
tributing in  any  degree  to  the  strength  or  develop- 
ment of  the  intellectual  faculties.  If  your  most  inti- 
mate associates  are  persons  of  good  sense  and  a  good 
degree  of  improvement,  you  can  hardly  fail  to  derive 
some  intellectual  advantage  from  mingling  in  their 
society ;  you  will  breathe  an  atmosphere  which  will 
operate  almost  insensibly  to  invigorate  the  powers  of 
your  mind.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  you  are  most 
conversant  with  those  whose  minds  are  cast  in  an 
inferior  mould,  and  whose  oj^portunities  of  mental  culti- 
vation are  very  narrow,  you  will  not  only  lose  much 
positive  advantage,  but  it  will  be  strange  if  your  own 
mind  does  not  gradually  come  to  sympathize  in  the  im- 
becility and  barrenness  with  which  it  is  so  constantly 
brought  in  contact. 

As  another  quality  which  you  ought  to  regard  in 
the  choice  of  your  friends,  I  would  mention  discretion. 
This  is  somethmg  quite  distinct  from  genius,  but 
though  a  less  dazzling  quality,  it  is  probably  more 
important  botli  to  happiness  and  usefulness.  Many  a 
female  of  a  brilliant  and  cultivated  mind  has  sacrificed 


EARLY  FRIENDSHIPS.  IT 

her  own  character  and  the  comfort  of  her  friends  to 
mdiscretion.  If  your  most  intimate  friends  are  of  this 
character,  the  evil  to  yourself  will  be  twofold :  you 
will  partake  of  the  unhappiness  which  they  will  fre- 
quently bring  upon  themselves,  and  you  will  often 
yourself  be  subject  to  embarrassment  and  perplexity 
in  consequence  of  their  imprudence.  Never  be  at- 
tracted then,  in  the  selection  of  a  friend,  by  any 
appearance  of  eccentricity.  In  almost  every  case,  you 
will  find  it  associated  with  some  kind  of  indiscretion  ; 
and  wherever  this  exists  in  any  considerable  degree,  it 
will  be  enough  to  poison  the  most  intimate  friendship. 
Let  your  friends  be  those  who  have  the  reputation  of. 
being  prudent  and  judicious.  Better  that  they  should 
possess  these  qualities  than  every  artificial  accomplish- 
ment. 

I  will  only  add  in  respect  to  the  character  of  your 
particular  friends,  that  it  is  exceedingly  desirable  that 
they  should  be  persons  who  maintain  a  serious  regard 
for  religion,  and  who  live  under  its  practical  influence. 
In  the  formation  of  your  friendships  as  well  as  in  every 
thing  else,  you  are  to  recollect  that  you  are  an  im- 
mortal and  accountable  creature,  and  to  keep  in  view 
your  preparation  for  a  future  world.  Nothing  will 
serve  more  effectually  to  prevent  or  banish  all  serious 
impressions,  than  an  unrestrained  intercourse  with  the 
vain  and  careless.  Whatever  other  attractions  such 
persons  may  possess,  you  may  rest  assured  that  the 
single  fact  that  they  treat  religion  with  levity  or 

Lftt  to  DttUBfa.  2 


18  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

indijfference,  is  a  sufficient  reason  why  they  should  not 
be  your  chosen  friends.  Indeed,  the  more  engaging 
they  are  in  other  respects,  the  more  reason  would  you 
have  to  dread  their  influence  as  companions,  because 
they  would  throw  around  an  irreligious  life  so  many 
more  dangerous  attractions.  Let  your  intubate  friends, 
therefore,  be  at  least  persons  who  pay  a  conscientious 
regard  to  the  duties  of  religion  ;  and  if  they  have 
deeply  felt  its  power,  you  ought  to  regard  it  as  an 
additional  recommendation.  If  you  rightly  improve 
the  privilege,  you  will  not  have  occasion  at  the  close 
of  life,  to  lament  that  your  most  intim.ate  associates 
were  persons  of  exemplary  piety.  But  if  you  should 
choose  friends  of  an  opposite  character,  you  have  great 
reason  to  fear  that  the  remembrance  of  it  will  imbitter 
your  closing  hour  with  unavailing  regrets. 

Let  me  here  remark,  as  a  direction  which  you  will 
do  well  always  to  keep  in  mind,  that  your  particular 
friends  should  not  be  very  numerous.  My  reasons  for 
this  advice  are  the  following.  To  meet  all  the  claims 
which  many  intimate  friendships  would  involve,  would 
require  too  much  of  your  time,  and  would  necessarily 
interfere  with  the  duties  connected  with  your  station 
in  life.  You  could  derive  no  advantage  from  having 
many  intimate  friends,  which  would  not  be  as  well 
secured  to  you  by  a  smaller  circle  ;  and  indeed,  just  in 
proportion  as  the  number  is  extended  beyond  a  moder- 
ate limit,  you  will  defeat  the  purposes  which  such  a 
friendship  is  designed  to  answer.     For  it  is  impossible, 


EARLY  FRIENDSHIPS.  19 

from  the  nature  of  the  case,  that  you  should  bestow  the 
same  degrfee  of  confidence  and  affection  upon  a  great 
number  as  upon  a  few  ;  and  as  the  advantage  to  be  de- 
rived is,  in  some  measure,  in  proportion  to  the  strength 
and  intimacy  of  the  friendship,  it  is  obvious  that  the 
more  numerous  is  your  circle  of  particular  friends,  the 
less  satisfaction  and  benefit  you  can  expect  to  receive. 
It  is  equally  true,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the  greater 
the  number  to  whom  you  proffer  your  confidence,  the 
less  will  your  confidence  be  valued  in  each  particular 
case ;  for  there  is  no  exception  here  from  the  general 
rule,  that  things  are  cheap  in  proportion  as  they  are 
common.  Be  satisfied  then  with  a  few  choice  friends, 
and  be  not  ambitious  to  be  the  confidant  of  all  your 
acquaintance. 

Another  suggestion  closely  connected  with  the  one 
which  I  have  just  made,  is,  that  you  should  not  be 
fickle  in  your  friendships — ^not  hastily  give  up  one 
friend  for  the  sake  of  gaining  another.  Wherever 
this  disposition  is  discovered,  it  is  sure  to  excite  dis- 
gust, and  to  attach  suspicion  to  any  subsequent  pro- 
fessions. Be  as  cautious  as  you  will  in  forming  your 
attachments,  but  when  they  are  once  formed,  never 
let  them  be  broken  unless  on  some  ground  that  you 
can  justify  to  your  reason  and  conscience.  One  single 
instance  of  the  unreasonable  desertion  of  a  friend 
would  do  an  injury  to  your  character  which  time  could 
scarcely  wear  out,  or  future  fidelity  retrieve. 

It  only  remains  that  I  suggest  a  few  hints  iji  respect 


20  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 

to  the  manner  in  which  your  intercourse  with  your 
friends  should  be  regulated.  That  you  should  treat 
them  with  a  high  degree  of  confidence  is  implied  in 
the  fact  that  you  extend  to  them  a  particular  friend- 
ship. Never  wound  them  by  any  unreasonable  ex- 
pressions of  distrust,  or  by  withholding  from  them  any 
thing  which  they  have  a  right  to  know.  Be  particu- 
larly cautious  not  to  excite  curiosity  by  dropping  a 
hint  in  relation  to  subjects  which,  from  any  considera- 
tion, you  do  not  feel  willing  fully  to  explain.  Such 
mysterious  allusions  often  excite  painful  suspicions  in 
the  mind,  and  have  not  unfrequently  been  instrumental 
in  separating  chief  friends.  It  would  be  too  paltry  a 
consideration  for  vvhich  to  wound  the  feelings,  or  to 
expose  yourself  to  the  loss,  of  a  valued  friend,  that  you 
might  be  amused  by  witnessing  the  common  operations 
of  curiosity. 

But  while  I  would  have  you  as  unreserved  in  your 
intercourse  with  your  friends  as  the  relation  which  you 
bear  to  them  demands,  I  would  also  have  you  beware 
of  the  opposite  extreme  of  pouring  into  their  ears 
every  thing  which  you  may  happen  to  know,  without 
discrimination.  In  your  intercourse  with  a  censorious 
world,  it  would  be  strange  if  you  should  not  sometimes 
hear  remarks  upon  their  characters  which,  however 
unmeaning  in  themselves,  could  not  be  repeated  in 
their  hearing  without  giving  pam.  Make  it  a  rule, 
therefore,  never  to  carry  any  unfavorable  report  to  a 
friend,  unless  you  believe  that  it  will  in  some  way  or 


EARLY  FRIENDSHIPS.  21 

other  be  productive  of  good.  Not  a  small  part  of  the 
ill  rumors  which  exist  in  society  are  to  be  traced  to  a 
habit  of  gossiping,  rather  than  to  any  settled  purpose 
to  slander ;  and  if  you  should  carry  every  thing  of 
this  kind  that  you  hear  to  your  friends  to  whom  it  re- 
lates, no  doubt  they  would  often  be  severely  wounded, 
where  there  was  no  positive  intention  of  attacking 
their  character. 

I  would  say,  too,  that  in  your  intercourse  with  each 
of  your  friends,  you  ought  to  maintain  a  scrupulous 
reserve  in  respect  to  what  may  have  been  conlBden- 
tially  intrusted  to  you  by  others.  Your  duty  requires 
that  you  should  pay  a  sacred  regard  to  the  confidence 
which  each  reposes  in  you ;  and  none  *of  them  can 
reasonably  claim  that  you  should  betray  another  for 
their  gratification.  If  you  have  several  intimate 
friends  who  are  not  at  the  same  time  the  intimate 
friends  of  each  other,  you  should  bear  in  mind,  that  in 
disclosing  to  one  a  secret  which  has  been  committed 
to  you  by  another,  you  violate  a  fundamental  principle 
of  good  friendship  ;  for'  however  you  may  confide  in 
the  prudence  and  good  faith  of  the  person  to  whom 
you  make  the  disclosure,  you  obviously  assume  a  right 
which  does  not  belong  to  you — that  of  giving  notoriety 
to  the  private  concerns  of  an  individual  beyond  what 
you  have  reason  to  believe  were  her  intentions  and 
wishes.  And  the  case  is  not  materially  different  in 
this  respect,  even  where  the  friend  who  confides  a 
secret  to  you,  and  the  friend  to  whom  you  confide  the 


22  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUailTER. 

same,  are  intimate  with  each  other ;  there  might  be 
many  reasons  which  would  render  it  desirable  that  it 
should  not  be  known  to  a  third  person,  however 
friendly,  which  might  not  exist  in  respect  to  yourself ; 
and  at  any  rate,  your  friend  does  not  feel,  and  ought 
not  to  feel,  when  she  intrusts  a  private  concern  to 
your  keeping,  in  which  perhaps  she  alone  is  interested, 
that  she  thereby  relinquishes  the  privilege  of  deciding 
whether  or  not  it  is  to  be  communicated  to  others. 
You  will  therefore  consider  the  secrets  of  each  one  of 
your  friends  as  a  separate  and  independent  trust,  which 
you  are  faithfully  and  sacredly  to  regard. 

There  is  one  duty  of  great  delicacy,  to  which  you 
may  sometimes  be  called  in  your  mter course  with 
your  friends — I  mean,  that  of  reproof  or  admonition. 
Though  I  have  advised  you  to  set  your  standard  high 
in  selecting  your  intimate  associates,  and  to  choose 
those  whom  you  believe  to  be  the  best  models  of 
character,  you  will  not  be  disappointed  to  find  them 
sometimes  in  the  wrong  ;  nor  ought  you  to  make  every 
foible  which  you  may  notice  in  them  the  subject  of 
animadversion.  At  the  same  time  it  admits  of  no 
question,  that  occasions  may  arise  which  will  not  only 
warrant,  but  imperatively  demand,  that  you  should 
take  the  attitude  of  a  reprover  ;  and  on  which  to  re- 
main silent,  would  be  a. gross  violation  of  the  obliga- 
tions of  friendship.  There  was  a  mutual  pledge  virtu- 
ally given  when  your  friendship  was  formed,  that  you 
would  sacredly  endeavor  to  promote  each  other's  best 


EARLY  FRIENDSHIPS.  23 

interests ;  and  you  surely  do  not  redeem  tliis  pledge, 
if  you  suffer  gross  errors  to  pass  unreproved.  The 
great  secret  of  discharging  this  duty  successfully,  is  to 
choose  a  proper  time  and  place,  and  to  do  it  in  the 
spirit  of  gentleness  and  affection.  Whenever  you 
take  this  attitude,  instead  of  appearmg  to  have  thrown 
off  the  character  of  a  friend,  and  assuming  an  air  of 
cold  severity,  you  should  let  every  expression  and  look 
testify  that  you  are,  if  possible,  more  under  the  influ- 
ence of  genuine  friendship  than  ever.  If  you  only  suc- 
ceed in  making  an  impression  that  the  reproof  is  the 
honest  dictate  of  true  kindness,  you  will  be  in  little 
danger  of  failing  of  your  object ;  but  if  unhappily  you 
leave  the  impression  that  it  proceeded  from  personal 
irritation,  or  from  an  unreasonable  misconstruction  of 
your  conduct,  it  would  be  strange  indeed  if  you  should 
realize  a  happy  result. 

In  general,  I  would  say  that  you  ought  to  make  all 
your  intercourse  with  your  friends  as  profitable  as  you 
can,  both  to  yourself  ajid  them.  It  is  hardly  possible 
but  that  the  friendships  which  you  form  should  be  to 
you  a  source  of  great  good,  or  great  evil.  If  the  time 
which  you  spend  with  your  intimate  associates  is 
chiefly  devoted,  as  it  should  be,  to  the  improvement 
of  the  intellect  and  the  heart,  you  will  never  review  it 
but  with  feelings  of  approbation.  But  if,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  is  given  to  levity  and  vanity,  and  if  those 
\Yhom  you  regard  with  most  affection  are  coworkers 
with  you  in  murdering  the  hours  which  were  given  for 


M 


LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 


better  purposes,  then  you  have  reason  to  expect  that 
the  friendships  which  you  now  form,  instead  of  being 
the  channel  of  blessings,  will  serve  to  poison  your 
moral  sentiments,  and  to  accumulate  anguish  for  a 
dying  hour. 

Your  affectionate 

FATHER. 


EDUCATION.  ■     25 


LETTER  III. 

EDUCATION—aENERAL  DIRECTIONS. 

My  dear  Child — In  this  and  some  following  letters, 
I  design  to  give  you  my  views  briefly  on  the  subject 
of  education.  I  say  hriejiy^  for  the  subject  is  of  such 
extent,  and  has  so  many  important  connections,  that 
one  could  scarcely  think  of  doing  justice  to  it  in  any 
thing  short  of  an  extended  treatise.  I  shall  confine 
myself  to  such  hints  as  I  think  may  be  most  useful  to 
you  in  prosecuting  your  own  education. 

I  would  have  you,  then,  in  the  first  place,  bear  in 
mind  that  the  great  object  of  your  education  is  to 
enable  you  to  bring  into  exercise  the  powers  which 
God  has  given  you  in  such  a  manner  as  shall  contribute 
most  to  his  glory.  For  all  the  noble  faculties  with 
which  you  are  gifted,  you  are  indebted  to  the  same 
Being  who  gave  you  your  existence :  on  Him  also  you 
are  dependent  for  their  preservation  ;  and  it  is  a  first 
dictate  of  reason  that  they  should  be  employed  in  his 
service.  But  these  faculties  are  evidently  susceptible 
of  high  cultivation ;  and  without  it  they  can  never 


26  LETTERS  TO  A  BAITaHTER. 

accomplish  the  purpose  for  which  they  are  designed. 
The  object  of  education  then  is  twofold :  to  develope 
the  faculties  and  to  direct  them ;  to  bring  out  the 
energies  of  the  soul,  and  to  bring  them  to  operate  to 
the  glory  of  the  Creator.  In  other  words,  it  is  to 
render  you  useful  to  the  extent  of  your  ability. 

From  this  view  of  the  design  of  education  in  general, 
it  would  seem  that  no  one,  certainly  no  Christian, 
could  dissent.  But  who  does  not  know  that  in  the 
education  of  females,  even  this  fundamental  principle 
has  too  often  been  overlooked ;  and  that  too  by  par- 
ents who  have  professed  to  regulate  their  whole  con- 
duct by  a  regard  to  Christian  obligation  ?  Especially 
has  this  capital  error  been  committed  in  substituting 
what  is  called  an  ornamental,  for  a  solid  education — 
in  taking  more  care  to  form  the  person  than  to  form  the 
mind ;  and  the  consequence  of  this  has  been,  that  many 
a  girl  of  fine  natural  talents  has  come  forth  to  the 
world  and  shown  us  the  fruit  of  a  long  and  expensive 
education,  in  the  marvellous  dexterity  she  has  acquu-ed 
in  the  use  of  her  hands  and  feet.  But  are  not  females 
gifted  with  the  exalted  attribute  of  reason  as  well  as 
the  other  sex  ?  And  where  has  Providence  intimated 
that  in  one  sex  this  gift  is  to  be  cultivated  with  the 
utmost  care,  and  ui  the  other  is  to  be  left  in  all  the 
wildness  and  barrenness  of  nature?  What  if  the 
sexes  have  not,  in  all  respects,  the  same  destination  ? 
What  if  man  is  destined  to  stand  forth  in  the  bolder 
walks  of  society ;  and  what  if  woman  has  her  station 


^  EDUCATION.  27 

allotted  her  more  exclusively  amidst  the  retired  scenes 
.of  domestic  life  ?  This  may  be  a  reason  why  their  educa- 
tion should  in  some  respects  be  differently  conducted ; 
but  it  can  never  be  an  argument  for  leaving,  the  mind 
of  the  female  to  rust  with  ignorance,  or  moulding  her 
into  a  pleasant,  animated  plaything.  If  it  be  desirable 
that  the  mind  of  man  should  expand  and  strengthen 
by  exercise,  it  must  also  be  desirable  that  the  female 
mind  should  share  in  some  degree  the  same  cultivation : 
otherwise  the  dearest,  tenderest  connection  of  life, 
which  ought  to  be  but  another  name  for  the  most  ab- 
solute community  of  interest  and  feeling,  will  be  con- 
verted into  an  unequal,  unnatural  league  between  intel- 
lectual refinement  and  intellectual  barbarism. 

You  perceive  then  that  the  object  of  female  educa- 
tion cannot  be  attained  without  careful  attention  to 
the  culture  of  the  intellect.  And  let  me  say  that  this 
must  extend  to  the  intellect  in  all  its  powers — to  the 
perception,  the  judgment,  the  memory,  the  reasoning 
faculty,  etc.  This  is  important,  not  only  because  each 
of  these  various  faculties  has  its  distinct  office,  and 
just  in  proportion  as  it  is  suffered  to  remain  dormant 
or  turned  out  of  its  proper  direction,  the  end  for  which 
it  is  designed  is  defeated ;  but  because  the  different 
faculties  have  a  mutual  dependence  upon  each  other, 
and  like  the  parts  of  a  well-adjusted  machine,  operate 
most  legitimately  and  most  effectually  where  the  bal- 
ance is  carefully  preserved.  It  is  true  indeed,  that 
much  respect  should  be  paid  to  the  peculiar  constitu- 


28  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

tion  of  the  mind  ;  and  it  should  be  trained  to  put  forth 
its  most  commanding  efforts  by  means  of  its  strongest 
powers :  nevertheless,  there  are  none  of  your  faculties 
which  you  have  a  right  to  neglect ;  and  even  the 
feeblest  of  them  should  be  cultivated,  at  least  so  far 
that  the  mind  may  attain  its  fair  and  just  proportion. 
It  is  also  desirable,  in  order  that  you  may  attain 
the  true  end  of  education,  that  you  should,  as  far  as 
possible,  adopt  a  course  which  will  combine  particular 
and  general  utility ;  that  is^  the  various  branches  which 
you  pursue  should  be  such  as  may  be  turned  to  some 
practical  use,  while  they  minister  to  the  general  culture 
of  the  mind,  and  give  it  the  easy  command  of  its  own 
powers.  The  most  interesting  view  of  the  education 
of  the  mind  is  that  which  regards  it  as  a  system  de- 
signed to  bring  out  its  powers  and  carry  it  forward 
from  one  degree  of  strength  to  another.  What  though 
you  may  gain  ever  so  much  knowledge,  if  every  new 
degree  of  it  is  not  a  new  degree  of  intellectual  power 
you  do  not  reap  the  legitunate  fruit  of  your  mental 
toil.  That  this  important  object  may  be  gained,  ac- 
custom yourself  in  every  branch  of  study  to  indepen- 
dent reflection,  and  let  your  mind  freely  think  its  own 
thoughts,  and  be  not  afraid  to  presume  that  the  text- 
book itself,  where  it  is  any  thing  else  than  the  Bible, 
may  be  wrong.  Not  that  I  would  encourage  in  you 
a  habit  of  intellectual  presumption  :  that  in  any  youth 
were  disgusting — in  a  young  female  it  were  intolerable. 
But  that  habit  of  modest  inquisitiveness  which  asks 


m  EDUCATION.  29 

for  a  reason  for  whatever  it  assents  to,  and  which  un- 
ostentatiously pushes  its  inquiries  beyond  authority,  or 
even  in  the  face  of  authority,  is  always  to  be  com- 
mended ;  and  is  fitted  above  almost  any  other  habit 
of  mind  to  give  you  a  knowledge  of  your  powers  on 
the  one  hand,  and  a  command  of  them  on  the  other. 

Let  me  here  say  a  word  in  regard  to  the  use  and 
abuse  of  text-books.  That  you  may  derive  from  them 
important  aid  in  the  prosecution  of  your  studies,  there 
can  be  no  doubt ;  and  there  is  as  little  question  that 
they  are  capable  of  being  perverted  as  auxiliaries  to 
mental  inaction.  The  true  use  to  be  made  of  them  is, 
not  to  supersede,  but  to  assist  reflection ;  not  merely 
to  communicate  information,  but  to  give  an  impulse 
to  the  intellect,  by  suggesting  hints  and  principles 
which  it  may  follow  out  to  their  legitimate  results. 
But  the  danger  is,  that  while  your  memory  will  be  laid 
under  contribution  to  gather  up  whatever  is  said  in 
the  text-book,  your  other  faculties  will  find  a  ready 
dispensation ;  and  that  in  your  recitation  you  will  be 
satisfied  to  confine  yourself  to  the  very  letter  of  your 
author.  In  order  to  guard  against  this  evil,  let  what 
is  said  in  the  text-book  be  regarded  as  only  the  basis 
of  what  you  are  to  learn ;  and  let  it  serve  as  a  guide 
to  conduct  you  into  other  fields  of  thought ;  and  ac- 
custom yourself  to  scrutinize  every  principle,  and  seek 
for  a  solution  of  every  difficulty  that  may  present 
itself.  Such  a  use  of  text-books,  while  it  will  not  ex- 
pose your  mind  to  be  enslaved  by  authorities,  or  leave 


30  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

any  of  its  faculties  to  rust  through  inaction,  will  secure 
every  positive  advantage  which  a  record  of  the  labors 
of  other  minds  can  impart. 

But  while  you  should  keep  in  view  the  general  cul- 
ture of  your  mind,  it  is  important  that  each  particular 
branch  that  you  pursue  should  be  of  practical  utility. 
It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  intellectual  labors  of 
many  of  the  schoolmen,  previous  to  the  revival  of 
learning  in  Europe,  were  of  great  extent,  and  were 
fitted  to  produce  a  high  degree  of  mental  acumen. 
But  every  one  who  has  looked  into  their  writings 
knows  that  the  subjects  upon  which  they  employed 
their  faculties  were  of  little  practical  moment ;  and 
that  they  would  often  pour  out  a  world  of  learned 
nonsense  to  establish  a  pomt,  which  after  all  was  not 
worth  establishing.  They  indeed,  by  this  means,  ac- 
quired an  extraordinary  power  of  discrimination  ;  and 
this  the  true  theory  of  education  certainlj'  does  not 
overlook ;  but  it  aims  at  this  end  by  employing  the 
mind  upon  subjects  of  practical  utility — subjects  which 
it  can  turn  to  some  account  in  the  every-day  affairs  of 
life.  And  let  me  say  that  it  is  important  not  only 
that  the  knowledge  which  you  acquire  should  be  prac- 
tical, but  that  you  should  also  gain  the  ability  of  car- 
rying it  out,  as  you  may  have  opportunity,  in  the 
various  departments  of  human  action.  You  might 
have  every  variety  of  learning,  and  if  withal  you  had 
not  learned  to  reduce  it  to  practise,  you  could  never 
rise  above  an  educated  dunce ;  whereas  a  much  less 


EDUCATION.  31 

degree  of  knowledge,  with  the  abihtj  of  applying  it, 
would  render  you  at  once  respectable  and  useful. 

I  have  cautioned  you  against  an  improper  reliance 
on  text-books  :  it  is  equally  important  that  you  should 
guard  against  depending  too  much  on  instructors. 
Why  is  it  that  many  a  girl  of  good  natural  talents, 
after  enjoying  the  best  advantages  of  education  for 
years,  comes  away  from'  school  a  mere  smatterer  in 
most  branches  included  in  her  course,  and  thoroughly 
versed  in  none  ?  The  reason  often  is,  that  she  has 
contented  herself  with  being  in  a  Kterary  atmosphere, 
and  going  through  the  daily  routine  of  recitations ; 
and  while  she  has  depended  upon  her  instructor  to 
solve  every  difficulty,  has  hardly  taxed  herself  with 
the  labor  of  so  much  thought  as  was  necessary  to 
apprehend  his  explanations.  Now  I  wish  you  to  be 
deeply  impressed  with  the  trath,  that  all  the  instruc- 
tion in  the  world  will  never  make  you  a  scholar  inde- 
pendently of  your  own  efforts.  There  is  no  such  thing 
as  thinking  by  proxy,  any  more  than  breathing  by 
proxy :  intellectual  acquisitions  must  be  the  fruit  of 
intellectual  labor ;  and  whoever  will  not  encounter 
the  one,  must  be  satisfied  to  remain  destitute  of  the 
other.  I  say  then,  listen  attentively  to  all  that  b 
communicated  by  your  instructors,  and  endeavor  to 
make  the  best  use  of  it ;  but  that  this  may  be  the  case, 
let  their  thoughts  become  incorporated  with  your  own, 
just  as  you  do,  or  as  you  ought  to  do,  in  relation  to 
the  thoughts  of  the  authors  whom  you  study.     Your 


32  .      LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 

instructors  may  indeed  cooperate  with  you  in  the  culti- 
vation of  your  mind ;  but  if  you  undertake  to  throw 
the  whole  burden  upon  them,  the  result  may  indeed 
witness  to  their  fidelity,  but  it  certainly  will  witness 
to  your  folly  and  mortification. 

Closely  connected  with  the  faithful  exercise  of  your 
own  faculties,  independently  of  text-books  and  teach- 
ers, is  a  habit  of  diligence.  I  do  not  mean  that  your 
whole  time  is  to  be  occupied  in  study ;  this,  while  it 
would  expose  your  health,  would  impair  the  vigor  of 
your  faculties,  and  thus  diminish  your  amount  of  ac- 
quisition. I  would  have  you  exercise  your  mind  closely 
in  study  when  you  exercise  it  at  all ;  and  e:^ercise  it 
as  constantly  as  is  consistent  with  keeping  it  in  the 
best  state  for  successful  application.  While  you  pro- 
fess to  be  a  student,  regard  study  as  your  main  busi- 
ness ;  and  make  your  amusement  subordinate,  and,  so 
far  as  possible,  subservient  to  it.  Kecollect  that  the 
period  allotted  to  your  education  is  comparatively 
short;  and  that  every  wasted  hour  of  this  golden 
season  will  tell  fearfully  on  your  future  destiny. 

I  have  just  alluded  to  the  fact — and  I  wish  here  to 
bring  it  more  distinctly  before  you — that  in  order  that 
you  may  study  to  the  most  advantage,  part  of  your 
time  must  be  devoted  to  relaxation  and  exercise  ;  how 
large  a  part,  your  own  judgment  and  experience  must 
decide.  Many  a  young  female  of  great  promise  has 
laid  the  foundation  of  disease  that  has  carried  her  pre- 
maturely to  the  grave,  by  neglectmg  bodily  exercise 


EDUCATION.  33 

during  the  period  of  her  education.  And  not  only  has 
she  sacrificed  her  life  to  this  unfortunate  habit,  but 
her  intellectual  acquisitions  have  actually  been  less 
than  if  a  due  proportion  of  her  time  had  been  devoted 
to  the  exercise  of  her  bodily  powers.  Whether,  there- 
fore, you  regard  the  preservation  of  your  life  and 
health,  or  your  success  in  the  various  branches  of 
study,  I  earnestly  entreat  you  to  subject  yourself  to  a 
course  of  daily,  systematic  exercise.  In  following  this 
advice  you  will  be  surprised  to  find  how  much  you  will 
gain  in  respect  to  elasticity  of  spirits  and  vigor  of 
thought ;  and  that  you  will  often  accomplish  more 
mental  labor  in  a  single  hour,  than  under  other  circum- 
stances you  would  accomplish  in  a  day,  or  even  a  week. 
And  more  than  this,  instead  of  leaving  school  with  a 
constitutioi;!  whose  resources  are  more  than  half  ex- 
hausted, and  with  an  ominous  paleness  on  your  cheek, 
which  seems  to  say  that  the  grave  is  ready  for  you, 
you  will  probably  come  away  in  the  bloom  of  health, 
and  with  strength  and  resolution  to  engage  in  the  du- 
ties of  the  station  in  which  Providence  may  place  you. 
Let  me  say  a  word  in  this  connection  in  regard  to 
the  treatment  which  is  due  from  you  to  your  instruc- 
tors. Next  to  your  parents,  your  instructors,  if  they 
are  faithful,  are  most  actively  engaged  in  the  formation 
of  your  character,  and  they  watch  over  you  with  a 
degree  of  solicitude  inferior  only  to  that  which  belongs 
to  the  parental  relation.  It  is  obvious,  therefore,  that 
not  only  common  propriety  but  gratitude  requires  that 


34  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

you  should  treat  them  with  great  deference  and  respect. 
You  are  not  indeed  bound  to  receive  every  or  any 
opinion  they  may  express  without  examination ;  and 
you  are  at  liberty,  unless  for  particular  reasons  they 
should  choose  to  forbid  it,  modestly  to  propose  diffi- 
culties which  may  be  suggested  even  by  their  own 
instruction ;  but.  you  are  always  faithfully  to  consult 
their  wishes,  and  yield  a  ready  obedience  to  their 
requisitions,  and  by  your  kind  and  respectful  deport- 
ment, to  do  what  you  can  to  diminish  the  burden  of 
care  and  perplexity  that  is  inseparable  from  their  em- 
ployment. I  should  do  you  injustice  to  suppose  it 
possible  that  you  should  be  guilty  of  such  indecorum 
as  deliberately  to  trifle  with  the  feehngs  of  your  in- 
structors, or  incur  their  open  and  direct  censure  ;  but 
your  conduct  towards  them  would  never  satisfy  me, 
unless  it  should  be  such  as  to  secure  their  positive  and 
uniform  approbation. 

I  cannot  close  this  letter  without  again  remmding 
you  that,  as  an  accountable  and  immortal  creature, 
you  are  to  regard  all  other  kmds  of  improvement  as 
subordinate  to  the  culture  of  the  heart ;  and  that  your 
acquisitions,  if  they  are  not  sanctified  by  divine  grace, 
will  ultimately  prove  a  curse  to  you  rather  than  a 
blessing.  While  I  am  earnestly  .desirous  that  you 
should  make  the  most  of  your  opportunities  for  un- 
proving  your  mind,  I  confess  that  I  am  not  without 
apprehension  lest  you  should  neglect  the  one  thing 
needful ;   and  more  than  that,  lest  you  should  find 


EDUCATION.  35 

temptations  to  the  neglect  of  it  growing  out  of  circum- 
stances connected  with  your  education.  If  you  have 
a  strong  relish  for  study,  there  is  danger  that  study 
will  become  with  you  the  all-engrossing  concern,  and 
will  leave  you  without  any  thoughts  to  bestow  upon 
God  or  your  soul's  salvation.  There  is  danger  too, 
that  in  your  daily  and  accidental  intercourse  with 
thoughtless  companions,  you  will  contract  the  same 
habit  of  indifference  to  religion  which  you  witness  in 
them,  and  this  habit  will  soon  become  fortified  by  the 
powerful  influence  of  example,  and  the  dread  of  being 
singular.  Such  has  been  the  melancholy  result  in  re- 
lation to  many  a  young  female,  who  has  commenced 
her  education  not  only  under  the  influence  of  pious 
parental  precepts  and  counsels,  but  with  a  tender  con- 
science, with  a  habit  of  serious  reflection,  and  with 
strong  resolutions  for  entering  on  the  religious  life. 
You  cannot  wonder  then  that  I  am  desirous  to  apprize 
you  of  these  temptations,  and  to  urge  you  to  be  on 
your  guard  against  them.  And  that  you  may  resist 
them  effectually,  let  me  counsel  you  to  let  a  portion  of 
each  day  be  sacredly  devoted  to  meditation  upon  your 
character  and  condition  as  a  sinful  and  immortal  being, 
to  the  attentive  perusal  of  the  holy  Scriptures,  and  to 
Earnest  endeavors  for  the  sanctifying  influences  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  In  a  word,  let  me  entreat  you  to  become 
a  new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus — a  practical  and  de- 
cided Christian.  This  will  not  only  save  you  from  the 
danger  of  being  fatally  ensnared  by  thoughtless  asso- 


a6  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

dates,  but  it  will  impart  to  your  example  a  dignity 
and  loveliness  and  power,  which,  under  God,  may  ren- 
der you  instrumental  of  their  salvation.  It  will  at 
once  secure  to  you  the  largest  amount  of  intellectual 
improvement,  and  will  be  a  pledge  that  all  your  ac- 
quisitions vnll  be  consecrated  to  the  best  interests  of 
your  fellow-creatures,  and  to  the  honor  of  your  Creator 
and  Redeemer. 

Your  affectionate 

FATHER. 


EDUCATION. 


at 


LETTER  IV. 


EDUCATION— VARIOUS  BRANCHES. 

My  dear  Child — Having,  in  a  preceding  letter, 
called  your  attention  to  some  general  views  of  the 
subject  of  education,  I  design  in  this,  to  enumerate 
some  of  the  various  branches  which  will  naturally  be 
included  in  your  course,  and  to  give  you  my  opinion 
of  their  comparative  importance.  Whatever  relates 
to  the  selection  and  order  of  your  studies,  I  am  willing 
to  leave  in  a  great  measure  to  your  instructors,  not 
doubting  that  they  will  direct  you  with  good  judg- 
ment ;  and  I  am  willing  too  to  leave  something  to  your 
own  taste  and  inclination ;  but  as  this  is  a  subject 
which  deeply  involves  the  improvement  of  your  mind 
and  the  formation  of  your  character,  and  in  which  a 
father  must  of  course  feel  a  deep  interest,  you  will  not 
wonder  that  I  am  disposed  to  give  you  briefly  the 
result  of  my  experience  and  reflection. 

You  need  not  be  startled,  when  I  go  back  to  the 
very  elementary  branches  of  an  education,  and  begin 


38  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

to  talk  to  you  on  the  simple  matter  of  learning*  to  read. 
That  you  can  read  with  tolerable  correctness  and  some 
degree  of  fluency  already,  I  admit ;  but  you  have  at 
least  as  much  to  learn  as  you  have  learned  already, 
before  you  can  be,  in  any  proper  sense  of  the  phrase, 
a  good  reader.  My  first  advice  is,  that  you  should 
adopt  in  every  respect  the  tones  of  nature — the  tones 
which  you  are  accustomed  to  use  in  common  conversa- 
tion. Almost  every  child  contracts,  at  a  very  early 
period,  what  is  commonly  called  a  reading  tone^ — a 
monotonous  habit  of  utterance,  which,  while  it  out- 
rages taste  and  nature,  is  generally  with  great  diffi- 
culty broken  up.  If  you  have  already  contracted  this 
tone  in  any  degree — and  it  would  be  strange  indeed  if 
you  had  not — ^make  it  your  first  object  to  get  rid  of  it. 
When  you  sit  down  to  read,  do  not  think  it  necessary 
to  assume  a  more  formal  or  stately  mental  attitude, 
than  if  you  were  sitting  down  to  converse  j  and  en- 
deavor to  utter  the  sentiments  of  your  author  in  his 
language,  in  the  same  easy  and  familiar  manner  that 
you  would  talk  off  the  same  sentiments  in  your  own. 
This  of  course  imphes  that  you  read  intelligently — 
that  you  are  able  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  your 
author,  and  readily  and  fully  to  apprehend  his  mean- 
ing. You  can  never  attain  what  I  wish  in  this  respect 
by  the  study  of  rules,  though  these  may  be  of  some 
assistance  to  you :  you  can  only  do  it  by  understand- 
ing well'what  you  read,  and  giving  yourself  up  to  the 
simple  dictate  of  nature  ;  and  by  often-repeated  exer- 


EDUCATION.  39 

cises  of  this  kind,  you  will  acquire  the  habit  which  I 
am  recommending.  Be  careful  also  that  you  utter 
each  sentence,  and  every  part  of  each  sentence,  with 
perfect  distinctness,  and  in  so  loud  a  tone  that  all  that 
you  say  shall  not  only  be  heard,  but  heard  without 
effort.  Guard,  on  the  one  hand,  against  fatiguing  the 
attention  of  those  who  listen  to  you,  by  the  excessive 
rapidity  of  your  utterance,  and  on  the  other,  against 
furnishing  them  with  an  apology  for  going  to  sleep  by 
your  extreme  deliberation.  In  a  word,  let  it  be  your 
aim  to  read  in  such  a  manner  as  most  deeply  to  im- 
press the  sentiments  of  your  author,  and  of  course, 
most  effectually  to  secure  the  attention  of  your  hearers. 
Next  to  reading  comes  the  equally  simple  art  of 
spelling.  It  is  true  of  this  as  of  every  other  elementary 
branch,  and  if  I  mistake  not,  in  a  higher  degree  than 
of  any  other,  that  if  it  is  not  learned  at  a  very  early 
period,  it  will  probably  never  be  learned  at  all ;  and 
hence  it  is  not  uncommon  to  find  men,  whose  early 
education  was  neglected,  but  who,  by  their  own  sub- 
sequent exertions,  have  risen  to  the  mo^  elevated 
stations,  leaving  evidence  through  life  upon  every  thing 
they  write  that  they  do  not  understand  the  art  of 
making  words  out  of  letters.  This  indeed  may  be  ex- 
cused where  there  has  been  the  want  of  early  advan- 
tages ;  but  nothing  else  can  render  it  tolerable.  I 
beg  you  will  make  it  a  point,  therefore,  as  early  as 
possible,  to  possess  yourself  of  a  correct  system  of 
orthography.     This  is  a  thing  to  be  learned  partly  by 


40  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

rule,  but  in  a  much  greater  degree,  by  practice  ;  and 
without  much  of  the  latter,  I  assure  you  that  you  can 
never  arrive  at  much  perfection  in  this  simple  but 
necessary  department  of  knowledge.  Let  me  advise 
you  in  writing  never  to  run  the  hazard  of  committing 
an  orthographical  error,  in  a  case  in  respect  to  which 
you  are  in  doubt.  Always  settle  the  point  on  the  spot, 
where  it  is  practicable,  by  a  reference  to  some  standard 
authority.  In  this  way  you  will  acquire  a  habit  of  cor- 
rectness, and  a  particularity  of  information,  which  will 
soon  make  you  independent  of  dictionaries  ;  whereas, 
by  adopting  the  opposite  course,  you  will  not  only  run 
the  hazard  of  committing  an  error,  in  a  case  in  which 
an  error,  to  say  the  least,  is  hardly  decent,  but  you 
will  acquire  a  habit  of  inattention  to  your  orthography 
which  may  ultimately  make  it  a  task  for  a  literary 
friend  .to  read  your  composition. 

•  As  for  penmanship,  I  cannot  say  that  I  regard  it  so 
important  that  you  should  attain  to  high  excellence  in 
it,  as  in  either  of  the  preceding  branches ;  and  yet  I . 
am  desirous  that  your  attainments  in  this  department 
should,  at  least,  be  respectable.  I  should  be  glad  to 
see  you  write  an  easy  and  graceful  hand,  and  above 
all,  I  would  have  it  possess  the  attribute  of  being 
legible.  A  more  odd  conceit  never  entered  a  human 
head  than  seems  to  have  gotten  possession  of  some  at 
the  present  day — ^that  a  hand  which  puts  one^s  inven- 
tion to  the  torture,  is  a  sure  mark  of  genius.  If  that 
be  the  test,  I  will  only  say  that  I  choose  to  have  you 


EDUCATION.  41 

run  the  hazard  of  being  considered  a  dunce,  rather 
than  torment  me  and  your  other  friends  with  illegible 
communications.  How  much  truth  there  is  in  the 
doctrine  held  by  some,  that  the  handwriting  indicates 
the  intellectual  or  moral  character,  I  will  not  under- 
take to  decide ;  but  I  earnestly  hope  that  you  will 
take  up  no  doctrine  or  practice  on  this  subject  that 
will  prevent  you  from  being  a  neat,  plain,  and  if  you 
please,  elegant  writer. 

I  hardly  need  say  that  you  can  lay  no- claim  to  the 
character  of  an  accomplished  scholar,  until  you  can 
speak  and  write  with  correctness  your  own  language. 
And  in  order  for  this,  you  must  gain  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  English  grammar  and  rhetoric.  These 
branches  should  be  so  familiar  to  you,  that  you  will, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  and  without  even  being  con- 
scious of  it  at  the  time,  judge  every  composition  you 
read  or  hear  by  grammatical  or  rhetorical  rules  ;  that 
you  will  as  instantly  detect  an  error  in  syntax  or  an 
error  in  taste,  „as  a  delicate  ear  would  notice  a  con- 
fusion in  musical  sounds.  I  know  indeed  there  have 
been  those  who  have  written  with  great  power,  and 
even  beauty,  who  have  known  nothing  of  rhetoric  or 
grammar,  except  as  they  were  taught  by  nature-— 
whose  minds  would  pour  out  *' thoughts  that  breathe 
in  words  that  burn,"  with  the  same  apparent  ease  that 
a  stream  flows  from  its  fountain ;  but  there  is  no 
reason  to  doubt  that  even  these  preeminently  gifted 
individuals  would  have  done  better  with  the  know- 


42  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

ledge  of  which  I  am  speaking,  than  they  did  without 
it ;  and  at  any  rate,  they  are  exceptions  from  a  general 
rule,  and  therefore  furnish  no  ground  for  any  general 
conclusion. 

It  were  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  a  habit  of  easy 
and  elegant  composition  is  not  to  be  acquired  in  ordi- 
nary cases  without  much  attention  and  long  continued 
practice.  If  you  should  find,  therefore,  that  your  first 
efforts  are  rather  tame  and  feeble,  it  will  be  no  reason 
why  you  should  be  discouraged ;  for  no  doubt  there 
are  many  now  on  the  list  of  fine  writers  whose  first 
efforts  were  as  tame  and  feeble  as  yours.  Nothing 
will  serve  more  effectually  to  improve  your  taste,  and 
to  give  you  an  easy  command  of  thought  and  expres- 
sion, than  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  English 
classics.  You  will  also,  especially  in  your  earlier  es- 
says at  composition,  find  it  a  useful  exercise,  after  you 
lay  aside  your  book,  to  commit  the  thoughts  of  your 
author  to  paper  in  your  own  language ;  though  I 
hardly  need  say  that  you  are  never  to  attempt  to  pass 
off  any  thing  that  you  produce  in  this  way  as  your 
own,  in  any  higher  sense  than  it  actually  is  so ;  for  to 
say  nothing  of  the  immorahty  of  such  an  act,-  which  I 
should  hope  would  be  sufficient  to  deter  you  from  it, 
there  is  no  character  in  the  literary  world  regarded 
with  more  odium  than  a  plagiarist.  Eemember,  that 
to  form  a  good  writer,  the  first  requisite  is  good 
thoughts — ^the  second,  a  good  style.  If  you  can  com- 
mand thoughts  which  are  striking  and  original,  it  is 


EDUCATION.  43 

all  the  better,  provided  they  are  appropriate ;  but 
endeavor  always  to  be  appropriate  at  any  rate.  A 
striking  thought  introduced  merely  because  it  is  strik- 
ing, and  with  nothing  in  the  connection  to  justify  it, 
is  a  blemish,  and  not  an  ornament ;  an  indication  both 
of  the  lack  of  judgment  and  of  taste.  Whenever  you 
have  selected  your  subject,  and  have  possessed  yourself 
of  the  necessary  information  in  respect  to  it,  revolve  it 
thoroughly  in  your  mind,  and  see  what  appropriately 
belongs  to  it ;  and  then  select  such  thoughts  or  trains 
of  thought  as  may  seem  to  you  on  the  whole  most 
pertinent  and  useful.  Arrange  your  thoughts,  so  far 
as  may  be,  before  you  begin  to  write ;  and  then  you 
will  proceed  with  far  more  ease,  and  probably  with  far 
more  success.  Let  your  subjects  be  chosen,  so  far  as 
possible,  with  reference  to  the  general  culture  of  your, 
mind.  It  is  too  much  the  fashion  of  the  day  for  gu-ls, 
in  writing  their  compositions,  to  imagine  themselves 
surveying  some  beautiful  moonlight  scene,  or  listening 
to  the  sound  of  some  magnificent  cataract,  or  contem- 
plating nature  in  some  other  of  her  wild  or  sweet  or 
majestic  forms :  all  this  may  be  well  enough  for  an 
occasional  exercise  of  imagination ;  but  in  general  I 
advise  you  to  select  subjects  of  more  practical  interest — 
subjects  which  are  adapted  to  exercise  the  judgment, 
the  reasoning  faculty,  and  other  powers  of  the  mind, 
and  not  merely  to  awaken  or  improve  the  fancy.  The 
secret  of  forming  a  good  style  is  to  throw  into  it  a  due 
proportion  of  gracefulness  and  strength.     There  are  a 


44  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

thousand  good  models  which  I  might  recommend  to 
you,  but  I  am  not  desirous  that  you  should  closely 
study  any  model  as  such  ;  the  true  mode  is,  to  be  con- 
versant with  as  many  good  writers  as  you  can,  and  to 
let  your  mind  operate  in  its  own  way,  unembarrassed 
by  the  peculiarities  of  any.  I  am  always  delighted  to 
read  a  book  on  which  I  can  see  the  very  image  and 
superscription  of  the  author's  own  mind. 

Of  the  various  kinds  of  composition  there  is  none 
perhaps  to  which  young  females  generally  are  more 
inclined,  and  for  which  they  find  more  occasion,  than 
the  epistolary ;  and  I  must  do  your  sex  the  justice  to 
say  that  in  this  respect  they  greatly  exceed  ours  under 
the  same  advantages.  Without  saying  any  thing  here 
of  the  propriety  of  your  cultivating  a  more  extensive 
or  a  more  limited  correspondence,  I  would  urge  upon 
you  the  importance  of  acquiring  a  good  epistolary 
style,  for  this,  among  other  reasons,  that  it  is  an  ac- 
complishment which  is  well  fitted  to  make  you  agree- 
able to  your  friends.  And  the  only  particular  direc- 
tion which  I  would  give  you  for  acquiring  it,  supposing 
you  to  be  attentive  to  the  general  culture  of  your  mind, 
is,  that  you  should  throw  your  thoughts  on  paper  with 
the  same  ease  with  which  they  fall  from  your  lips. 
When  you  sit  down  to  write  a  letter,  imagine  that 
you  are  sitting  down  to  talk  to  a  friend ;  and  if  you 
adopt  a  style  of  elegant  conversation,  you  will  adopt 
the  very  best  style  for  a  correspondence. 

You  will  not  understand  me  as  prescribing  any  exact 


EDUCATION.  45 

order  for  your  studies,  when  I  mention,  next,  arithme- 
tic. I  hardly  need  say  that  this  is  important,  not  so 
much,  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  word,  as  an 
accomphshment,  as  it  is  for  the  every-day,  practical 
purposes  of  Hfe  ;  so  that  there  is  hardly  a  condition  in 
which  you  can  suppose  yourself  placed,  but  that  your 
ignorance  of  this  branch  must,  at  some  time  or  other, 
subject  you  not  only  to  sad  mortification,  but  to  sore 
inconvenience.  Of  the  new  mode  of  calculating,  com- 
monly called  mental  arithmetic,  I  am  unable  to  speak 
from  much  practical  knowledge ;  but  I  must  confess 
that  the  results  of  this  mode  of  teaching  which  I  have 
witnessed,  even  in  small  children,  have  surprised  me ; 
and  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  is  the  most  easy  and  suc- 
cessful mode  of  communicating  this  kind  of  knowledge 
which  has  yet  been  di^overed.  But  leaving  to  your 
instructors  to  decide  in  respect  to  the  best  manner  of 
your  studying  arithmetic,  I  must  insist  that  you  make 
thorough  work  of  it ;  insomuch  that  no  calculation 
which  you  will  have  occasion  to,  make,  will  ever  em- 
barrass you. 

As  to  the  higher  branches  of  mathematics,  if  you 
have  even  a  common  relish  for  them,  I  think  you  may 
pursue  them  to  some  extent  with  advantage.  If  you 
are  passionately  fond  of  them,  I  would  say  unhesi- 
tatingly, better  prosecute  them  so  far  as  inclination 
may  dictate  and  opportunity  admit.  But  if  your  taste 
points  you  decidedly  to  a  different  course  of  study,  and 
you  find  nothing  in  this  branch  to  attract  or  interest 


46  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

you,  why,  then  I  would  consent  that  your  mathematical 
studies  should  be  arrested  at  almost  any  point  you 
please,  after  you  have  become  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  common  arithmetic.  Algebra  and  geometry, 
however,  it  were  certainly  desirable  should  come  into 
your  course ;  and  if  you  have  intelligently  advanced 
thus  far,  it  is  more  than  probable  that  your  inclination 
will  lead  you  still  further.  It  is  scarcely  possible  that 
you  will  ever  be  placed  in  circumstances  in  which 
'  these  higher  branches  will  come  into  direct  use ; 
nevertheless  you  may  advantageously  study  them  sim- 
ply as  a  matter  of  intellectual  discipluie.  It  is  an 
admirable  way  of  learning  to  think  on  general  subjects 
with  precision,  and  to  reason  with  clearness  and  force. 
Of  geography,  I  surely  need  not  say  any  thing  to 
you  in  the  way  of  urging  its  infportance  or  recommend- 
ing it  to  your  attention.  When  studied  intelligently 
and  with  the  proper  helps,  it  possesses  attractions  to 
most  minds  which  are  irresistible.  And  to  say  nothmg 
of  the  interest  which  belongs  to  it  in  itself  considered, 
it  is,  as  I  think  Lord  Chesterfield  remarks,  one  of  the 
eyes  of  history.  You  will  make  yourself  familiar  with 
the  earth,  not  only  as  it  is  known  to  the  moderns,  but 
as  it  was  known  to  the  ancients,  as  a  preparation  for 
the  study  both  of  ancient  and  modern  history.  It 
were  scarcely  necessary  to  add,  that  your  acquisitions 
in  this  department  of  knowledge  must  be  made  princi- 
pally from  the  map  or  the  globe,  as  all  impressions 
which  you  derive  in  any  other  way  will  be  compara- 


EDUCATION.  47 

lively  feeble  and  evanescent.  The  construction  of 
maps  also  you  will  find  a  pleasant  exercise,  while  it 
will  serve  to  render  your  geographical  knowledge  more 
distinct  and  abiding. 

I  have  adverted  to  history.  This  I  would  have 
you  study  not  merely  with  a  view  to  gratify  curiosity, 
but  as  containing  an  instructive  record  of  human  ac- 
tions, and  as  furnishing  an  important  means  of  be- 
coming acquainted  with  the  operations  of  the  human 
heart ;  for  what  the  nature  of  man  has  been,  so  it  is 
now ;  and  its  operations  are  the  same,  making  due 
allowance  for  diversity  of  circumstances.  In  your 
attention  to  this  branch,  I  would  advise  you  first  to 
make  yourself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  some  judi- 
cious outline  of  history ;  and  so  far  as  possible  to  fill 
up  every  part  of  the  outline  by  your  subsequent  read- 
ing. In  no  branch  of  study  will  you  need  the  aid  of 
system  more  than  this  ;  and  though  you  may  accumu- 
late materials  without  end,  yet  if  you  fail  to  reduce 
them  to  order,  so  that  they  shall  be  in  your  mind  as 
so  many  distinct  and  well-arranged  classes  of  facts, 
you  will  be  able  to  use  them  to  little  advantage. 
While  I  would  have  you  familiar  with  every  part  of 
history,  both  ancient  and  modern,  I  would  recom- 
mend a  special  attention  to  the  history  of  your  own 
country  ;  not  only  because  it  is  your  own,  but  because 
it  is  the  land  which  seems  to  be  marching  forward  in 
the  order  of  Providence  to  a  more  glorious  destiny 
than  any  other.     Every  thing  seems  to  indicate!  that 


48  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

this  country  is  to  have  a  most  important  part  in  the 
final  renovation  of  the  world,  and  this  surely  is  a 
reason  why  those  who  Jiave  their  lot  cast  in  it  should 
understand  well  its  history,  that  they  may  contemplate 
the  wonderful  works  of  God  by  which  it  has  already 
been  distinguished,  and  in  which  no  doubt  will  be 
found  the  elements  of  its  ultimate  destiny. 

Next  to  history,  perhaps,  may  properly  come  mental 
and  moral  philosophy.  These  are  indeed  distinct 
branches,  but  as  they  both  relate  to  the  essential  con- 
stitution of  man,  they  may  properly  enough  be  noticed 
together.  IT  you  wUl  prosecute  them  with  success, 
you  must  bring  to  your  aid  much  patient  reflection ; 
for  you  may  rest  assured  that  any  superficial  attention 
to  these  branches  will  be  to  no  purpose.  Every  princi- 
ple laid  down  in  your  text-book  you  must  test' by  a 
reference  to  your  own  intellectual  or  moral  constitu- 
tion ;  and  if  you  find  a  disagreement  between  the 
prmciple  as  it  is  stated  by  your  author,  and  as  it  exists 
in  your  own  bosom,  you  have  reason  to  inquire  whether 
your  author  be  not  in  the  wrong ;  for  the  original 
principles  of  human  nature,  and  the  operation  of  these 
principles,  are  substantially  the  same  in  persons  of 
every  class.  The  study  of  these  branches,  conducted 
in  this  way,  you  will  readily  perceive,  is  only  the  study 
of  human  character  and  human  duty ;  and  surely 
this  cannot  be  unworthy  to  employ  your  faculties, 
whether  as  an  intellectual  being,  or  as  a  probationer 
for  eternity. 


EDUCATION.  49 

Some  degree  of  attention  you  may  properly  bestow 
upon  mechanical  philosophy  and  chemistry.  These, 
together  with  kindred  sciences  which  come  under  the 
general  department  of  natural  history,  while  they 
answer  important  practical  purposes,  are  admirably 
adapted  to  enlarge  our  views  of  the  wisdom  and  power 
and  goodness  of  the  Creator.  If  your  circumstances 
should  permit,  and  your  taste  should  incline  you  to 
bestow  some  attention  upon  several  of  the  branches 
of  natural  science,  I  should  not  object  to  it ;  but  if 
you  should  confine  yourself  to  one  or  two,  mechanical 
philosophy  and  chemistry  would  probably  best  reward 
your  efforts.* 

As  to  modern  languages,  I  am  not  particularly  de- 
sirous that  you  should  aim  at  very  high  attainments. 
Of  the  French  I  should  be  glad  to  have  you  acquire 
so  much  knowledge  that  you  can  read  it  with  fluency 
and  correctness  ;  but  as  for  Spanish,  Italian,  and  other 
modern  languages,  there  is  so  little  in  them  which  it 
were  worth  your  while  to  read,  that  you  have  my  full 
consent  for  never  opening  a  grammar  of  either.  The 
dead  languages  I  do  not  regard  as  constituting  an 
important  part  of  female  education  ;  and  yet,  if  your 
taste  should  incline  you  to  it,  I  confess  I  should  be 
gratified  to  see  you  able  to  converse  with  the  mighty 
dead  of  Grecian  and  Roman  fame,  and  still  more  to 
see  you  able  to  read  the  Scrpitures  in  the  languages 
in  which  they  were  dictated  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  This 
last  I  know  is  a  rare  acquisition  for  a  young  lady,  but 

Let.  to  DaUgh ,  4 


50  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

it  is'  one  which,  in  my  eye  at  least,  always  serves  to 
elevate  her  character. 

I  cannot  conclude  this  list  of  studies  without  recom- 
mending to  you  a  careful  attention  to  the  evidences  of 
Christianity ;  and  I  rejoice  to  find  that  in  some  of  our 
female  seminaries,  this  is  already  recognized  as  a  dis- 
tinct branch  of  education.  Every  part  of  this  subject 
is  full  of  interest,  but  no  part  of  it,  perhaps,  grows  upon 
the  mind  so  much,  on  reflection,  as  that  which  relates 
immediately  to  the  word  itself — what  is  popularly 
termed  the  mternal  evidence.  Nearly  identified  with 
the  study  of  this,  is  the  study  of  the  doctrines  of  the 
gospel ;  and  I  earnestly  hope  the  time  is'  not  far  dis- 
tant when  a  knowledge  of  some  outline  of  scripture 
truth,  or  what  perhaps  is  still  better,  the  Bible  itself, 
will  be  considered  essential  to  a  complete  female  edu- 
cation. 

You  perceive  I  have  said  nothing  of  merely  orna- 
mental branches.  The  reason  is,  not  that  I  regard 
them  as  absolutely  unimportant,  but  only  compara- 
tively so.  I  am  willing,  if  your  circumstances  ad- 
mit, that  you  should  attend  to  drawmg,  painting, 
or  music,  or  all  of  them,  provided  only  you  have  a 
natural  taste  for  them,  and  do  not  suffer  them  to  in- 
terfere with  your  improvement  in  more  important 
branches.  I  say,  if  you  have  a  taste  for  them,  for 
nothing  seems  to  me  more  ridiculous  than  for  a  gu^l 
utterly  destitute  of  taste  to  spend  months  in  trying  to 
learn  the  use  of  the  pencil,  while  neither  she  nor  her 


EDUCATION.  51 

friends  are  to  reap  any  other  reward  of  her  labors, 
than  is  found  in  the  awkward  result  of  having  a  few 
pictures  to  amuse,  or  as  the  case  may  be,  to  frighten 
her  younger  sisters.  If  you  have  a  talent  for  music,  I 
am  more  than  willing  that  you  should  cultivate  it ;  for 
it  will  not  only  supply  you  with  innocent,  and  I  may 
say,  elegant  amusement,  but  it  may  often  banish  mel- 
ancholy from  your  mind,  and  refresh  and  invigorate 
the  spirits  of  your  friends.  But  I  repeat,  let  every 
accomplishment  of  this  kind  be  suffered  to  hold  only 
its  proper  place.  If  you  find  that  your  attention  to 
these  or  any  kindred  branches  is  at  any  time  making 
you  indifferent  to  the  more  solid  parts  of  your  educa- 
tion, especially  if  you  find  that  it  serves  to  cherish  in 
you  a  spirit  of  vanity,  and  to  diminish  your  interest  in 
the  realities  of  rehgion,  you  need  no  better  evidence 
that  it  has  become  excessive  ;  and  that  however  inno- 
cent these  things  may  be  in  themselves,  there  is  danger 
that  you  will  pervert  them  to  your  injury  or  ruin. 
I  am  your  devoted 

FATHER. 


52  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 


LETTER  V. 

EDUCATION— DOMESTIC  ECONOMY. 

My  dear  Child — However  much  you  may  be  dis- 
tinguisLed  for  intellectual  cultivation,  or  for  proficiency 
in  the  more  refined  and  ornamental  branches,  you  can 
make  no  claim  to  a  complete  education,  unless  you  are 
well  acquainted  with  domestic  economy.  I  am  aware 
that  this  is  a  subject  which  from  some  cause  or  other 
many  young  females  regard  with  strong  aversion  ;  and 
there  is  reason  to  fear,  that  in  too  many  instances  this 
aversion  is  heightened  by  receiving  in  some  degree  the 
parental  sanction ;  but  you  may  rely  on  it,  there  cannot 
be  a  greater  mistake  on  the  subject  of  female  educa- 
tion, than  to  suppose  that  this  branch  of  it  may  with 
safety  be  neglected.  With  regard  to  the  extent  to 
which  you  should  be  informed  on  this  subject,  I  would 
say  in  general,  that  you  ought  to  have  so  much  know- 
ledge of  it  as  will  enable  you  to  regulate  with  advan- 
tage the  concerns  of  a  family.  There  are  indeed  some 
of  the  domestic  arts  which  you  can  hardly  be  expected 
to  acquire ;  and  which,  in  the  ordinary  walks  of  do- 


DOMESTIC  ECONOMY.  53 

mestic  life,  may  not  be  important ;  but  whatever  re- 
lates to  the  immediate  superintendence  and  direction 
of  household  concerns,  you  cannot  neglect  without 
exposing  yourself  to  inconvenience  which  no  future 
exertions  may  be  able  completely  to  remedy. 

.  It  is  important  that  you  should  cultivate  a  taste  for 
the  management  of  domestic  concerns  as  early  as  pos- 
sible. As  no  part  of  your  education  is  more  practical 
than  this,  it  were  unsafe  to  neglect  it  even  for  a  short 
period,  as  the  consequence  of  such  neglect  would 
probably  be,  that  you  would  form  other  habits  uncon- 
genial with  domestic  employments,  and  which  perhaps 
might  give  you  an  aversion  to  them  which  you  would 
never  overcome.  Do  not  consider  it  a  hardship,  there- 
fore, to  be  placed  in  circumstances  which  favor  your 
attention  to  this  subject,  and  even  demand  your  active 
exertions.  Every  item  of  this  kind  of  knowledge 
which  you  gain,  you  will  be  able  hereafter  to  turn  to 
some  practical  account,  which  will  compensate  many 
fold  for  the  labor  of  attaining  it. 

It  is  not  uncommon  for  young  females  in  the  higher 
walks  of  life,  to  satisfy  themselves  in  the  neglect  of  this 
branch  of  education  on  the  ground  that  their  lot  is 
cast  in  circumstances  of  opulence  and  splendor.  If 
this  excuse  could  ever  be  sustained,  you  have  no  right 
to  expect  that  your  condition  in  life  will  allow  you  to 
avail  yourself  of  it ;  but  the  truth  is,  that  it  cannot  be 
admitted  in  any  case.  For  what  if  Providence  should 
actually  place  you  in  circumstances  of  wealth,  and 


54  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

v^hat  the  world  calls  independence  ?  Would  you  not 
still  be  as  truly  accountable  to  God  for  all  your  pos- 
sessions, as  though  you  had  been  limited  to  a  moderate 
competence?  Nay,  would  not  your  responsibility  be 
increased  just  in  proportion  to  the  abundance  which 
had  been  bestowed  upon  you  ?  This  therefore,  instead 
of  being  an  argument  for  the  neglect  of  the  domestic 
part  of  your  education,  is  actually  a  reason  why  you 
should  attend  to  it  with  the  greater  care ;  for -if  a 
profusion  of  the  bounties  of  heaven  be  intrusted  to 
your  management,  and  you  are  responsible  for  the 
proper  improvement  of  them  all,  is  it  not  preeminently 
desirable  that  you  should  possess  that,  knowledge 
which  will  enable  you  to  acquit  yourself  as  a  faithful 
steward? 

But  if  you  leave  the  idea  of  accountableness  entirely 
out  of  the  question,  there  are  still  other  reasons  of 
great  weight  why  this  part  of  your  education  should 
not  be  neglected.  Without  a  proper  attention  to  it, 
you  can  never  be  qualified  to  preside  in  the  concerns 
of  a  family.  Though  you  should  be  placed  in  a  station 
which  might  enable  you  to  command  all  the  conven- 
iences and  assistance  which  opulence  can  furnish,  you 
will  never  feel  at  home  in  your  own  house,  unless  you 
have  yourself  that  practical  knowledge  which  will 
enable  you  to  keep  your  house  in  order.  You  cannot 
realize  half  the  value  of  your  domestic  aid,  unless  you 
are  capable  of  exercising  a  general  superintendence, 
and  giving  proper  du'ections  ;  and  without  siftjh  ability, 


DOMESTIC  ECONOMY.  65 

you  will  be  liable  to  constant  impositions  from  those 
to  whom  you  will  be  obliged  to  confide  interests  which 
ought  to  remain  exclusively  in  your  own  hands.  Many 
a  large  estate  has  been  squandered,  and  many  a  family 
reduced  to  want,  in  consequence  of  a  deficiency  in  this 
part  of  female  education. 

Let  me  add,  if  Providence  should  ever  place  you  at 
the  head  of  a  family,  and  you  are  obliged,  from  igno- 
rance of  domestic  economy,  to  intrust  its  concerns  to 
another,  you  cannot  maintain  the  dignity  which  appro- 
priately belongs  to  such  a  station.  You  will  be  sub- 
ject to  a  thousand  painful  mortifications  from  discover- 
ing, that  your  concerns  are  improperly  managed,  and 
yet  being  unable  to  suggest  the  proper  remedy ;  and 
though  you  may  try  to  flatter  yourself  that  your 
ignorance  on  this  subject  may  pass  for  evidence  of 
a  genteel  education,  it  is  more  than  probable  that 
the  unsavory  food  which  will  sometimes  chance  to  be 
placed  before  your  guests,  will  lead  them  to  regret 
that  you  happened  to  possess  so  unfortunate  an  ac- 
compHshment. 

What  I  have  said  hitherto  on  this  subject  has  been 
principally  upon  the  supposition  that  you  are  to  be 
placed  in  circumstances  of  external  ease  and  affluence. 
But  I  hardly  need  say  that  this  is  by  no  means  certain. 
Even  if  your  prospects  in  this  respect  should  be  fair  at 
the  commencement  of  domestic  life,  there  are  a  thou- 
sand changes  which  may  await  you,  any  one  of  which 
may  cast  around  you  the  gloom  and  desolation  of 


56  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

heart-breaking  poverty.  I  could  tell  you  of  many  who 
have  begun  life  without  a  cloud  being  seen  to  settle 
upon  their  temporal  prospects,  and  have  closed  it  in 
all  the  degradation  and  wretchedness  which  the  most 
abject  want  could  occasion.  I  would  fondly  indulge 
the  hope  that  Heaven  may  avert  such  a  lot  as  this 
from  my  dear  child ;  but  as  it  is  impossible  to  tell 
what  scenes  of  adversity  the  changes  of  life  may  bring 
^with  them,  it  is  unquestionably  the  part  of  wisdom 
that  you  should  be  prepared  for  any  lot  to  which 
Providence  may  call  you.  What  then,  if  you  should 
be  destined  in  a  few  years  to  the  obscure  and  humble 
walks  of  poverty?  What  if  from  the  comfortable 
competence  you  now  possess,  you  should  sink  to  a 
condition  upon  which  you  have  hitherto  been  scarcely 
able  to  look,  without  feelings  of  compassion  and  tears 
of  sympathy  ?  What  if  you  should  see  around  you  a 
little  defenceless  family,  and  all  the  dreaded  evils  of 
poverty  clustering  upon  them  in  melancholy  profusion  ? 
And  what  if,  in  the  midst  of  all  these  circumstances 
of  external  depression,  you  should  be  found  incapable 
of  devising  a  plan  or  hfting  a  hand  for  the  relief  or 
comfort  of  yourself  and  family?  In  supposing  this 
case,  beheve  me,  I  am  not  dealing  in  fictio'h :  I  have 
seen  an  elegant,  accompUshed  female,  brought  up  in 
the  lap  of  luxury,  in  these  very  circumstances  :  and 
who  knows  but  that  another  such  case  may  occur,  and 
that  it  may  not  be  the  case  of  my  beloved  child? 
Sure  I  am  that  another  argument  cannot  be  necessary 


DOMESTIC  ECONOMY.  51 

to  impress  you  with  the  importance  of  the  subject  I 
am  endeavoring  to  urge.  - 

And  now,  if  I  have  gained  your  conviction  to  the 
importance  of  this  branch  of  education,  let  me  repeat 
the  request  that  you  will  begin  without  delay  to  make 
it  a  practical  matter.  I  know  indeed,  that  much  de- 
pends in  this  case  on  maternal  attention  and  effort ; 
but  I  know  too,  that  there  is  in  some  young  females 
an  aversion  to  domestic  employments,  which  a  mother's 
persevering  exertions  do  not  overcome ;  and  I  also 
know  that  little  improvement  can  reasonably  be  ex- 
pected in  any  department  of  knowledge,  in  which  the 
mind  does  not  act  not  only  without  constraint,  but  with 
alacrity.  And  I  beg  you  to  bear  in  mind,  that  the 
knowledge  of  which  I  am  speaking  is  to  be  acquired 
only  in  a  single  way,  and  that  is  by  actual  experience. 
You  may  study  the  science  of  domestic  economy  as 
carefully  as  you  will,  and  you  may  receive  lessons 
from  experienced  and  skilful  managers,  and  after  all, 
you  will  be  Mttle  wiser  till  you  come  down  to  the 
actual  reality  of  participating  in  the  every-day  con- 
cerns of  a  family.  When  you  actually  put  your  hand 
to  the  work,  you  will  begin  to  learn ; .  but  unless  you 
put  your  hand  to  it  frequently,  and  learn  to  think  it 
no  dishonor  to  engage  in  any  thing  appertaining  to 
the  economy  of  a  family,  you  can  never  expect  to  be- 
come an  accomplished  housekeeper.  In  a  preceding 
letter  I  have  urged  upon  you  the  importance  of  taking 
a  good  degree,  of  exercise  ;  let  me  here  say,  that  you 


58  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

cannot  comply  with  that  direction  to  better  purpose 
than  by  spending  a  part  of  every  day  in  domestic  em- 
ployments. And  while  it  will  secure  to  you  the  benefit 
of  relaxation  from  your  studies,  and  of  the  exercise  of 
your  bodily  powers,  it  will  be  an  effectual — the  only 
effectual  means  of  preparing  you  to  appear  with  honor 
and  usefulness  in  thi§  department,  as  the  head  of  a 
family. 

In  connection  with  this  general  subject,  I  have  a 
word  to  say  in  respect  to  the  regulation  of  yo#  ex- 
penses. In  all  your  dealings  I  would  have  you  avoid 
even  the  appearance  of  being  parsimonious ;  let  no  one 
ever  have  just  occasion  to  say,  in  respect  to  any  pecun- 
iary transaction  of  yours,  that  it  has  not  been  per- 
fectly liberal  and  honorable.  Nevertheless  there  is  an 
ostentation  of  liberality  which  I  would  have  you  care- 
fully avoid  ;  for  it  is  really  a  contemptible  quahty,  and 
so  the  world  regard  it.  There  is  also  in  s(Hne  young 
females  a  spkit  of  extravagance — a  disposition  to  in- 
cur expenses  which  their  condition  in  life  neither  de- 
mands nor  justifies ;  another  quahty  which  deserves 
severe  reprobation.  I  trust  I  shall  never  be  subjected 
to  the  mortification  of  seeing  exemplified  in  you  either 
of  these  dispositions.  Let  your  expenditures  be  regu- 
lated, not  merely  by  a  regard  to  your  ability,  but  to 
your  accountableness  as  a  steward  of  the  divine  bounty. 
Kegard  economy  as  a  virtue,  and  never  be  unwilling 
to  be  seen  in  the  practice  of  it.  It  is  a  shame  to  any 
steward  to  waste  his  Lord^s  goods.     It  is  honorable 


DOMESTIC  liCONOMY.  59 

to  contract  your  personal  expenses  as  far  as  you  may, 
that  you  may  thereby  have  the  more  abihty  to  succor 
the  needy  and  distressed. 

I  will  close  this  letter  by  suggesting  a  hint  or  two 
on  the  subject  of  dress ;  as  it  is  in  relation  to  this, 
more  perhaps  than  any  thing  else,  that  most  young 
females  are  tempted  to  indulge  in  extravagance.  I 
would  always  have  you  appear  in  this  respect  neat 
and  decent,  and  do  not  care  how  much  correct  taste 
you  display ;  but  I  beg  you  to  avoid  all  gaudy  and 
superfluous  ornament.  It  is  a  good  rule  to  follow  the 
fashion  in  dress  just  so  far  that  you  shall  not  be  marked 
as  singular.  But  you  may  rely  on  it,  that  a  disposition 
to  take  the  lead  in  fashions,  to  shine  forth  in  splendid 
apparel,  and  even  to  profane  the  house  of  God  by  a 
gaudy  glare  of  lace  and  gold,  is  always  taken  with 
discernmg  people  as  proof  of  a  weak  head  or  a  proud 
heart.  In  the  circle  of  my  acquaintance  there  is  a 
family  of  young  ladies  who  have  a  fortune  which  few 
females  in  this  country  have  ever  inherited.  They 
have  been  educated  in  a  style  of  princely  liberality ; 
and  I  may  say,  with  the  voice  of  all  their  acquaint- 
ances to  sustain  me,  that  they  are  the  ornament  of 
their  sex.  These  young  ladies  have  their  hearts  and 
hands  open  to  every  object  of  charity  within  their 
reach  •  but  in  their  dress  there  are  scarcely  any 
females  in  the  surrounding  population  who  are  equally 
simple  and  unpretending.  And  who,  think  you,  re- 
gards them  the  less  for  this  trait  in  their  character? 


60 


LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 


Believe  me,  every  one  regards  them  the  more.  There 
is  in  it  a  charming  simplicity,  a  right  estimate  of 
things,  which  attracts  universal  admiration.  I  would 
say  to  every  young  female,  I  would  especially  say  to 
you,  ^'  Go  and  do  likewise." 

Your  devoted 

FATHER. 


GENERAL  READINa.  61 


My  dear  Child — In  the  course  of  your  education, 
and  after  it  is  completed,  you  will  occasionally  find 
leisure  to  devote  to  miscellaneous  reading.  As  this  is 
one  of  the  principal  means  by  which  you  will  become 
acquainted  with  the  sentiments .  of  others,  you  will 
readily  perceive  that  it  cannot  but  exert,  either  for 
good  or  evil,  an  important  influence  on  your  character. 
It  is  the  design  of  this  letter  to  furnish  you  some  hints 
which  may  assist  you  to  regulate  this  employment,  so 
that  it  shall  be  at  once  the  most  useful  and  the  most 
agreeable. 

And  the  first  suggestion  which  I  would  offer  on  this 
subject  is,  that  all  your  reading  should  be,  as  far  as 
possible,  with  some  definite  object  other  than  merely 
to  occupy  your  time.  If  you  have  no  object  in  view, 
you  may  be  sure  that  you  will  accomplish  none  ;  and 
thus  your  reading  will  be  at  best  a  mere  waste  of  time, 
and  not  improbably  will  be  fraught  with  positive  jntel- 


62  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

lectual  or  moral  evil.  When  you  take  up  a  book, 
decide  if  you  can,  from  its  title,  or  its  table  of  con- 
tents, what  good  purpose  you  can  accomplish  by  read- 
ing it,  what  faculties  of  your  mind  it  will  be  hkely  to 
uiiprove,  or  what  moral  dispositions  to  refine  or  ele- 
vate ;  and  having  settled  this  point,  if  the  book  be 
worthy  of  your  attention,  you  can  hardly  fail  to  be 
benefited  by  reading  it. 

Another  remark  closely  connected  with  the  pre- 
ceding is,  that  you  should  never  allow  yourself  to  read 
without  reflection.  There  is  no  habit  more  easily  ac- 
quired than  that  of  occupying  the  eye  merely  upon  an 
author,  and  leaving  the  mind  to  its  own  wanderings ; 
and  there  is  scarcely  any  habit  which,  in  the  end, 
more  completely  unstrings  the  intellect,  and  renders  it 
incapable  of  commanding  its  own  powers.  The  legiti- 
mate design  of  reading  is,  not  to  supersede,  but  to 
assist  reflection — not  to  put  the  faculties  to  sleep,  but 
to  brighten  them  by  active  exercise.  Different  books, 
it  is  acknowledged,  require  different  degrees  of  mental 
exertion  ;  but  you  may  take  it  for  granted,  that  a  book 
which  is  not  worth  the  labor  of  some  thought,  is  not 
worth  the  labor  of  reading.  Whatever  book  you  may 
have  in  hand,  let  your  mind  be  just  as  intensely  em- 
ployed as  is  necessary  to  enable  you  to  realize  the  full 
advantage  of  reading  it ;  that  is,  to  enable  you  to 
comprehend  its  full  meaning,  and  to  give  it,  so  far  as 
may  be  desirable  or  practicable,  a  lodgment  in  your 
memory.     If  you  find  your   thoughts   at   any  time 


aENERAL  READING-.  63 

wandering  obstinately  from  your  author,  and  if  no 
effort  will  bring  them  mider  your  control,  so  that  you 
can  read  to  advantage,  and  such  cases  will  sometknes 
occur  from  mere  physical  derangement,  better  lay 
aside  your  book  than  to  continue  reading  in  this  atti- 
tude of  mental  vacancy.  You  will  be  none  the  wiser 
for  what  you  read^^and  you  may  be  forming  an  intel- 
lectual habit  which  will  duninish  your  power  of  ac- 
quiring wisdom  in  more  favored  circumstances. 

It  follows,  from  the  remark  just  made,  that  you 
should  be  on  your  guard  against  reading  too  much. 
There  is  such  a  thing  as  a  diseased  intellectual  appe- 
tite, which  craves  an  excess  of  food,  and  is  only  satis- 
fied with  devouring  every  thing  that  comes  in  its  way. 
But  to  indulge  such  an  appetite  were  just  as  prepos- ' 
terous  as  to  think  of  nourishing  the  body  by  taking  a 
quantity  of  food  which  should  altogether  exceed  the 
digestive  powers  of  the  system.  If  you  would  read  to 
advantage,  you  must  incorporate  what  you  read  with 
your  own  thoughts,  and  gather  from  it  materials  for 
future  reflection.  But  this  you  can  never  do,  if  your 
whole  time  is  occupied  in  reading,  or  if  you  take  up 
one  volume  after  another  in  such  rapid  succession  that 
your  mind  can  retain  no  distinct  impression  of  the  con- 
tents of  any  of  them.  Some  of  the  minds  which  have 
shone  most  brilliantly,  have  been  but  little  occupied 
with  books,  being  far  more  conversant  with  their  own 
thoughts  than  the  thoughts  of  others.  Eemember 
that  a  few  books  carefully  read,  and  thoroughly  di- 


64  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

gested,  and  used  as  helps  to  intellectual  exertion,  will 
be  of  far  more  use  to  you  than  scores  of  volumes 
which  are  gone  through  with  little  thought,  and  the 
contents  of  which  either  instantly  pass  out  of  the  mind, 
or  remain  in  it  an  indigested  mass  of  materials. 

But  while  you  should  avoid  reading  too  much,  it  is 
desirable,  that  of  the  books  which  you  do  read,  you 
should  form  a  habit  of  selecting  and  treasuring  up 
those  parts  which  are  most  important.  You  cannot 
expect  to  retain  the  whole  of  any  book ;  and  if  you 
should  attempt  it,  you  would  probably  lose  the  whole 
by  tasking  your  memory  so  severely ;  but  even  if  it 
were  possible,  it  would  ordinarily  be  to  no  good  pur- 
pose, as  there  is  much  in  almost  every  book,  which 
might  be  in  your  mind  without  at  all  increasing  your 
stock  of  useful  knowledge.  That  you  may  possess 
yourself  of  the  substance  of  what  you  read,  make  it  a 
point  to  review  your  author  before  you  lay  him  aside, 
and  form  an  analysis,  at  least  in  your  own  mind,  of  all 
that  you  have  been  reading.  It  will  be  well  too,  if 
you  commit  to  paper  a  general  outhne  of  every  im- 
portant book  you  read ;  or  at  least,  that  you  make 
references  on  a  blank  page,  to  those  parts  to  which 
you  may  afterwards  wish  to  recur.  Some  such  expe- 
dient as  this  will  be  of  great  use  in  assisting  your 
recollection,  and  will  help  you  to  retain  stores  of 
knowledge  which  would  otherwise  be  inevitably  lost 
from  your  memory. 

-You  will,  moreover,  find  great  advantage  in  having 


G-ENERAL   READINa.  65 

the  different  departments  of  literature  and  science 
with  which  you  are  conversant,  so  far  systematized  in 
your  mind  that  you  will  be  able  to  refer  every  book 
that  you  read  to  some  one  of  them.  In  this  way, 
your  mind  will  become  an  intellectual  storehouse,  ac- 
commodated to  the  reception  of  every  kind  of  useful 
materials ;  and  its  various  apartments  arranged  with 
so  much  skill  and  order,  that  you  will  never  be  at  a 
loss  where  to  deposit  any  new  article  of  knowledge,  or 
where  to  find  any  you  had  previously  deposited.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  you  read  without  any  regard  to 
order,  as  it  respects  your  previous  acquisitions,  the 
impressions  which  are  made  upon  your  mind  will  be 
vague  and  indistinct ;  and  after  a  little  while  the 
severest  effort  will  be  ineffectual  to  recall  them. 

Having  thrown  out  these  few  hints  in  respect  to  the 
manner  of  your  reading,  suffer  me  now  to  add  some 
brief  suggestions  in  respect  to  the  selection  of  books. 

And  first  of  all,  let  me  say  to  you,  never  allow 
yourself,  from  any  consideration,  to  read  books  of 
immoral  tendency.  A  bad  book,  like  a  bad  friend, 
may  exert  an  influence  which  an  estabhshed  habit  of 
virtue  will  scarcely  be  able  to  resist ;  and  where  a 
corrupt  associatiopi  is  once  formed  in  the  mind,  it  is 
exceedingly  difficult  to  destroy  it :  it  remains  there,  a 
leprous  spot,  usually  bidding  defiance  to  every  thing 
but  the  power  of  divine  grace.  What  though  a  book 
of  this  character  may  fall  into  your  hands,  which  is 
rendered  peculiarly  attractive  by  a  refined  and  fasci- 

Let.  to  Daug-h.  5 


66  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

nating  style?  You  are  to  bear  in  mind,  that  these 
literary  embellishments  can  no  more  disarm  false 
principles  of  their  fatal  tendency,  than  poison  can 
lose  its  virulence  by  being  mingled  with  honey.  .  Nay, 
these  very  attractions  give  to  bad  books  much  of  their 
dangerous  influence  ;  for  while  they  recommend  them 
to  the  attention  of  the  incautious  and  inexperienced, 
they  too  often  serve  as  a  channel  through  which  the 
most  deadly  impressions  are  conveyed  to  the  mind. 
And  if  the  reading  of  such  books  were  the  only  way 
in  which  you  could  gain  the  refinement  of  literature, 
then  I  would  say,  better  remain  in  ignorance  for  ever 
than  hazard  the  wreck  of  your  moral  principles,  or 
admit  into  your  heart  the  elements  of  destruction. 

But  wiiile  you  carefully  avoid  all  works  which  are 
fitted  in  any  degree  to  corrupt  the  principles  or  sully 
the  purity  of  the  mind,  I  would  have  you  select  those 
which,  on  the  whole,  are  best  adapted  to  increase  your 
stock  of  useful  knowledge  and  practical  wisdom.  In 
the  wide  range  of  elegant  literature,  there  is  a  great 
variety  of  authors  which  will  at  once  enlighten  your 
understanding,  improve  your  taste,  and  exert  an  influ- 
ence upon  your  heart  favorable  to  virtue  and  piety. 
The  entire  works  of  Mrs.  More,  the^ride  and  glory  o) 
your  sex,  you  cannot  read  too  often  or  too  attentively 
They  contain  a  system  of  moral  instruction,  particu- 
larly adapted  to  young  females,  which  has  perhaps 
never  had  a  parallel  in  any  age  or  country. 

It  is  an  error,  against  which  you  should  be  on  your 


aENERAL  READINQ.  67 

guard  in  the  selection  of  your  reading,  to  confine  your- 
self exclusively  to  books  of  a  particular  kind.  The 
effect  of  this  would  be  to  corrupt  your  taste,  to  destroy 
the  proportion  which  exists  among  the  various  powers 
of  your  mind,  and,  as  the  case  may  be,  to  expose  you 
to  serious  inconvenience  and  mortification.  That  you 
may  avoid  this  evil,  endeavor  to  be  conversant  with 
those  authors  who  have  been  most  conspicuous  in  the 
various  departments  of  literature.  Such  a  course  will 
be  likely  to  give  you  a  correct  and  dignified  taste,  at 
the  same  time  that  it  will  impart  a  general  consistency 
and  vigor  to  your  intellectual  character. 

Though  I  have  no  wish  that  you  should  be  an  en- 
thusiast with  regard  to  poetry,  I  would  still  have  you 
in  some  degree  familiar  with  the  best  poets  both  of 
ancient  and  modern  date.  The  immortal  works  of 
Milton,  Cowper,  and  Thompson,  may  be  read  with 
great  advantage  to  the  heart  as  well  as  the  under- 
standhig.  But  there  are  others,  usually  associated  in 
the  same  cluster  of  poetical  genius,  who,  however  ex- 
quisite their  poetry,  cannot  be  safely  recommended  as 
guides  to  youthful  virtue.  Much  of  the  modern  poetry, 
I  am  sorry  to  say,  is  chargeable  with  the  same  immoral 
tendency.  Byron,  with  a  genius  to  which  few,  whether 
of  ancient  or  modern  days,  can  lay  claim,  has  clouded 
his  brilliant  and  beautiful  conceptions  with  the  dark 
hue  of  infidelity  and  moral  death ;  and  so  long  as  his 
writings  last,  they  must  stand  as  a  monument  of  a 
noble  intellect  prostituted  to  the  worst  of  all  purposes. 


68  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

•that  of  corrupting  and  destroying  his  fellow-men. 
Moore,  with  less  of  genius  than  Byron,  has  written,  for 
the  most  part,  for  no  better  purpose  ;  and  it  were  far 
worse  than  a  waste  of  time  to  employ  yourself  upon 
his  productions.  Even  the  poetry  of  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
though  it  has  much  in  it  to  delight  the  imagination,  is 
greatly  deficient  in  moral  sentiment,  and  seems  scarcely 
fitted  for  any  higher  purpose  than  to  furnish  a  light 
kind  of  amusement.  James  Montgomery  belongs  to 
an  entirely  different  class,  or  rather,  he  stands  nearly . 
alone ;  and  I  have  no  hesitation  in  assigning  to  him  a 
preeminence  among  the  poets  of  the  present  day. . 
With  an  invention  uncommonly  fertile  in  whatever  is 
chaste  and  beautiful,  he  unites  a  deep  and  strong  re- 
ligious sensibility  ;  and  in  reading  his  poetry,  you  see 
not  less  of  the  Christian  than  of  the  poet :  you  feel 
that  your  imagination  and  all  your  powers  are  in 
communion  with  an  exalted  genius,  while  you  seem  to 
breathe  a  pure  and  moral  atmasphere,  and  to  have 
your  soul  attracted  towards  a  region  of  perfect  purity. 
I  might  mention  also  the  lamented  Pollok,  who  lived 
long  enough  to  show  that  God  had  given  him  noble 
powers,  and  that  he  was  disposed  to  employ  them  in 
his  Master's  service  ;  who  wrote  but  little,  but  in  that 
Uttle  has  erected  for  himself  a  bright  and  enduring 
monument.  So  too  I  might  speak  of  Mrs.  Hemans, 
whose  poetry  is  the  subject  of  much  and  deserved 
praise ;  and  of  many  others,  of  various  degrees  of 
merit,  all  of  whom  are  unexceptionable  in  their  moral 


aENERAL  READING.  69 

tendency.  But  it  is  unnecessary  that  I  should  enlarge 
on  this  subject,  as  I  have  no  doubt  that,  with  the 
hints  already  given,  I  may  safely  leave  it  to  your  own 
taste  and  judgment. 

As  for  dramatic  writers,  I  cannot  say  that  I  am 
desirous  that  you  should  cultivate  a  taste  for  them. 
The  plays  of  Shakespeare  are  incomparably  the  finest 
specimen  of  dramatic  genius  which  the  English  lan- 
guage preserves ;  and  it  cannot  be  denied  that  they 
exhibit  human  life  and  manners  with  great  power  and 
beauty  and  effect ;  but  it  is  equally  unquestionable 
that  there  is  much-  in  them  to  call  into  exercise  the 
worst  passions  of  human  nature,  to  tarnish  the  purity 
of  the  mind,  and  to  beget  a  kind  of  profane  familiarity 
with  things  of  high  and  sacred  import.  I  should 
expect,  therefore,  that  the  loss  you  would  sustain  from 
reading  them,  in  point  of  moral  feeling,  would  be 
greater  than  any  advantage  you  would  gain  in  respect 
to  intellectual  improvement.  And  on  no  account 
could  I  consent  to  your  reading  them,  unless  it  were 
under  the  direction  of  some  judicious  friend,  who  would 
select  for  you  the  parts  which  are  most  unexception- 
able. Addison,  Young,  and  a  few  others  have  written 
plays  which  may  perhaps  be  considered  unexception- 
able ;  but  I  must  confess,  I  should  feel  no  regret  if 
you  should  think  it  best  to  dispense  with  this  class  of 
authors  altogether. 

But  there  is  no  species  of  reading  to  which  young 
females  are  usually  more  inclined  than  that  of  novels, 


10       ^         LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

or  from  which  thej  are  so  much  in  danger.  I  will 
not  say  that  there  are  no  works  of  this  kind  which  indi- 
cate a  tone  of  correct  moral  feeling,  and  which  are  of 
unexceptionable  moral  tendency.  Nor  will  I  take  it 
upon  me  to  pass  severe  judgment  upon  many  persons 
of  great  excellence  who  have  indulged  in  this  kind  of 
reading,  on  the  ground  that  it  furnishes  many  impor- 
tant lessons  in  respect  to  the  operations  of  the  human 
heart.  But  I  must  say,  after  an  attentive  considera- 
tion of  this  subject,  and  withal,  after  having  once  held 
a  somewhat  different  opinion,  that  I  do  not  wish  you 
ever  to  read  a  novel.  For,  admit  that  the  novels  of 
Kichardson,  and  some  of  the  modern  novels  of  Scott, 
and  a  few  others,  abound  with  critical  views  of  human 
nature,  and  contain  many  specimens  of  eloquent  writ- 
ing, and  in  their  direct  moral  influence  may  be  re- 
garded as  harmless,  I  cannot  doubt  that  the  time 
which  you  would  occupy  in  reading  them  might  be 
employed  to  better  purpose  in  studying  the  actual 
realities  of  life,  as  they  are  exhibited  by  the  biographer 
or  the  historian  ;  and  moreover,  there  is  danger,  if  you 
begin  to  read  works  of  fiction,  with  an  intention  to 
read  but  few,  and  to  confine  yourself  to  the  better 
class,  that  your  reUsh  for  these  productions  will  in- 
crease, till  you  can  scarcely  feel  at  home  unless  the 
pages  of  a  novel  are  spread  out  before  you  ;  and  what . 
is  still  more  to  be  dreaded,  that  you  will  read  indis- 
criminately the  most  corrupt  as  well  as  the  least  ex- 
ceptionable.    You  may  rest  assured  that  a  character 


GENERAL  READING.  U 

formed  under  the  influence  of  novel  reading,  is  miser- 
ably fitted  for  any  of  the  purposes  of  practical  life. 
The  imagination  being  hereby  wrought  into  a  feverish  . 
state,  gains  the  ascendency  over  the  judgment,  and  a 
thousand  bright  visions  rise  up  before  the  mind,  which 
experience  proves  to  be  unreal.  This  species  of  read- 
ing, moreover,  inspires  a  disgust  for  the  sober  and 
practical  realities  in  which  we  have  to  mingle ;  and 
what  is  worse  than  all,  it  often  closes  every  avenue 
through  which  the  awful  truths  of  rehgion  can  be  con- 
veyed to  the  heart.  I  say  then,  as  you  would  avoid 
forming  a  character  which  combines  all  the  elements 
of  insipidity,  corruption,  and  moral  death,  beware  of 
the  reading  of  novels.  Many  a  young  female  has  been 
obliged  to  trace  to  this  cause  the  destruction  of  her 
principles,  her  character,  and  ultimately  her  hfe  ;  and 
if  she  have  escaped  these  greater  evils,  she  is  still  un- 
fitted for  solid  intellectual  enjoyment,  and  for  a  life  of 
active  usefulness. 

I  would  have  you  bestow  considerable* attention  on 
the  periodical  publications  of  the  day,  though  you 
^ught  here,  as  much  as  in  any  department  of  litera- 
ture, to  read  with  discrimination.  Of  these  publica- 
tions you  need  not  to  be  told  that  there  is  every  variety, 
from  the  dignified  quarterly,  that  exercises  an  almost 
unlimited  sway  in  the  region  of  taste  and  letters,  down 
to  the  contemptible  catchpenny  paper,  that  lives  by 
circulating  slander  and  falsehood.  It  would.be  well, 
if  your  circumstances  should  permit,  that  you  should 


12  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

accustom  yourself  regularly  to  read  one  of  the  great 
foreign  reviews ;  and  of  those  in  our  own  country, 
which  are  purely  or  chiefly  literary,  you  may  advan- 
tageously select  one  or  two  more.  But  in  reading 
these  publications,  even  the  best  of  them,  you  ought 
not  tamely  to  surrender  your  own  judgment  of  an 
author  to  the  dictation  of  these  literary  censors ;  but 
to  let  their  opinion  pass  for  only  what  it  is  worth  ;  and 
if  it  have  been  formed  under  the  influence  of  partiality, 
or  prejudice,  to  let  it  pass  for  nothing.  Of  religious 
periodicals  it  taay  be  well  for  you  to  select  one  from 
each  of  the  most  important  classes ;  as,  for  instance, 
one  that  is  devoted  to  theological  review  and  dis- 
cussion, one  to  missionary  intelligence,  etc.  By  select- 
ing your  reading  of  this  kind  with  care,  and  keeping 
yourself  within  certam  limits,  you  will  gain  far  more 
information,  and  with  much  less  labor,  than  if  you 
were  to  devour,  indiscriminately,  every  periodical  that 
should  fall  in  your  way. 

You  will  find  it  a  useful  employment  occasionally  to 
read  judicious  books  of  travels.  It  happens,  unfor- 
tunately, that  most  works  of  this  kind  seem  to  have 
been  written  with  too  little  regard  to  truth ;  and  in- 
stead of  having  the  sober  results  of  actual  experience, 
we  have  had  the  wild  and  wonderful,  and  sometimes 
ridiculous  sallies  of  the  writer^s  imagination.  There  is 
probably  no  species  of  writing,  in  respect  to  which  you 
ought  to  make  more  abatement  from  glaring  and  mar- 
vellous statements  than  this,  not  only  because  authors 


G-ENERAL  READING-.  73 

of  this  kind,  from  their  rapid  observations,  are  often 
liable  to  mistake,  but  because  certainty  has  such  an 
advantage  over  conjecture,  that  they  are  under  a 
strong  temptation  'hot  only  to  speak,  but  to  speak 
positively,  where  it  would  be  honest  for  them  to  con- 
fess that  they  know  nothing.  We  are  perfectly  aware 
how  much  the  character  of  our  own  country  has  been 
traduced  and  held  up  to  ridicule  by  travellers  from 
abroad ;  and  it  is  fair  to  conclude  that  much  that  pro- 
fesses to  be  the  record  of  travels  in  other  countries  is 
equally  at  war  with  truth  and  justice.  Some  of  the 
best  books  of  foreign  travels  have  been  written  by 
missionaries,  from  this  country  and  England ;  and  I 
doubt  not  that  it  is  from  this  source  that  we  are  here- 
after to  gain  our  most  accurate  knowledge  of  the  popu- 
lation, the  manners,  and  general  statistics  of  other 
countries. 

Biography  is  a  species  of  reading  which  is  fitted  to 
amuse,  while  it  instructs  you.  It  brings  out  before 
you  the  human  character,  and  often  in  circumstances 
of  the  deepest  interest ;  and  holds  up  a  mirror  in  which 
you  may  see  the  operations  of  your  own  heart.  I 
regret  to  say  that  well  executed  and  attractive  works 
of  this  kind,  are  far  less  common  in  the  English  lan- 
guage than  could  be  desired.  Among  the  most  inter- 
esting within  my  knowledge  are  the  biographies  of 
Philip  and  Matthew  Henry,  the  latter  of  which  was 
written,  and  the  former  revised,  by  my  excellent  and 
highly  valued  friend,  Doctor  Williams  of  Shrewsbury. 


T4  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 

Within  a  few  years  many  highly  interesting  works 
have  been  pubKshed,  commemorating  the  character 
and  services  of  distinguished  missionaries,  and  those 
who  .have  been  especially  active  in  the  missionary 
cause,  such  as  Martin,  Eichmond,  Burder,  Rowland 
Hill,  etc.  I  would  advise  you,  especially,  to  become 
familiar  with  the  characters  who  have  been  most 
conspicuous  in  our  own  country,  and  who  have  been 
instrumental  of  transmitting  to  us  our  goodly  inherit- 
ance. You  may  also  study  with  great  advantage  the 
lives  of  many  distuiguished  females  of  modern  times, 
such  as  Mrs.  Graham,  Mrs.  Huntington,  Mrs.  Newell, 
and  others  who  have  gone  to  heaven,  leaving  a  bright 
track  of  glory  behind  them.  Whenever  you  engage 
in  this  kind  of  reading,  endeavor  to  turn  it  to  some 
account  in  the  improvement  of  your  heart.  Whatever 
excellence  you  discover  in  the  character  you  are  con- 
templating, endeavor  to  make  it  your  own ;  whatever 
error,  fortify  yourself  against  it  with  renewed  vigil- 
ance ;  whatever  weakness,  see  whether  it  be  not  the 
besetting  mfirmity  of  your  own  nature  ;  whatever  vic- 
tory over  temptation,  whatever  serenity  amidst  sorrow, 
whatever  triumph  in  death,  let  it  lift  your  eye  and 
your  heart  upwards,  for  that  almighty  grace  by  which 
those  blessings  are  secured.  The  reading  of  biography 
in  this  way  I  must  most  cordially  recommend,  as  it 
cannot  fail  to  make  you  wiser  and  better. 

You  will  anticipate  me  when  I  say  that  I  wish  you 
to  be  conversant  with  the  best  works  on  theology. 


GENERAL  READING.  15 

In  many  of  the  old  writers  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
which  are  now  httle  read,  at  least  by  females,  you 
will  find  treasures  of  thought  and  devotion,  which 
would  amply  reward  you  for  the  labor  of  examining 
them.  Owen,  Baxter,  Flavel,  Charnock,  Bates,  and 
Howe,  though  they  possess  indeed. different  degrees  of 
merit,  yet  are  all  rich  in  evangehcal  sentiment,  a^d 
some  of  them  distinguished  by  a  bold  and  powerful 
eloquence.  The  entire  works  of  any  of  these  authors 
are  voluminous,  and  perhaps  not  easily  accessible  ;  but 
some  of  the  most  popular  and  useful  treatises  of  each 
of  them,  and  of  many  others  of  the  same  school,  are 
within  your  reach,  and  may  be  read  without  occupying 
an  undue  portion  of  your  time.  If  I  should  mention 
any  one  as  deserving  a  preference  above  the  rest,  I 
think  it  would  be  Howe.  There  is  running  through 
his  writings  a  majesty  of  conception,  and  a  deep  cur- 
rent of  devotional  feehng,  which  I  look  for  in  vain,  in 
the  same  degree,  in  almost  any  other  writer. 

I  wish  you  to  read  attentively  at  least  one  system 
of  theology.  Mere  miscellaneous  reading  on  theologi- 
cal subjects,  however  useful  it  may  be,  can  never  give 
you  a  distinct  and  connected  view  of  the  great  system 
of  revealed  truth.  There  is  no  work  within  my  know- 
ledge, so  well  adapted  to  answer  this  purpose,  as  the 
admirable  system  of  theology  by  the  late  President 
D wight.  It  may  look  a  little  formidable  to  you  at 
first,  but  I  am  almost  sure  that  if  you  once  engage  in 
reading  it,  you  will  not  be  impatient  to  find  its  close. 


T6  LETTERS  I'O  A  DAUG-HTER.     . 

While  the  subjects  are  arranged  with  philosophical 
accuracy,  they  are  discussed  with  a  degree  of  perspi- 
cuity, force,  and  eloquence,  for  which  I  think  you  will 
look  in  vain  in  any  similar  work.  There  are  other 
books  containing  systems  of  theology  which  you  might 
read  with  advantage,  but  instead  of  recommending 
•any  of  them  to  your  particular  attention,  I  would  ad- 
vise you,  when  you  have  gone  through  with  Doctor 
Dwight  once,  to  begin  and  go  through  with  him  again. 
This  course  I  would  recommend,  not  from  a  desire  to 
disparage  other  authors,  but  from  a  conviction  that  to 
read  and  digest  this  as  you  ought,  would  be  of  more 
use  to  you  than  to  read  several  similar  works  super- 
ficially ;  and  withal,  that  you  could  expect  to  find 
little  in  other  bodies  of  divinity  that  would  be  of  much 
importance,  which  this  does  not  contain. 

You  will  also  occasionally  employ  yourself  in  reading 
sermons.  As  your  first  object  here  should  be  the  im- 
provement of  your  heart,  you  should  select  those  which 
are  distinguished  by  an  earnest  and  practical  exhibi- 
tion of  divine  truth.  But  it  is  perfectly  consistent  that 
you  ^ould  combine,  with  the  culture  of  your  affec- 
tions, the  improvement  of  your  mind ;  and  for  this 
purpose,  you  should  choose  those  which  are  composed 
with  the  best  taste,  and  with  the  greatest  degree  of 
intellectual  vigor.  The  sermons  of  Barrow  and  Jeremy 
Taylor,  though  they  partake  much  of  the  spirit  of  the 
age  in  which  they  were  written,  are  specimens  of  a 
vigorous  and  powerful  eloquence,  to  which  modern 


OENERAL  READING.  7t 

times  have  hardly  furnished  a  parallel.  The  sermons 
of  Archbishop  Tillotson  are  fertile  in  weighty  and  im- 
pressive sentiment,  and  on  subjects  connected  with 
natural  religion  are  exceeded  by  few  in  the  language. 
Bishop  Sherlock's  sermons,  though  in.  some  minor 
points  not  exactly  accordant  with  my  own  views  of 
religious  truth,  are  certainly  a  monument  of  an  elegant 
and  active  mind,  which  posterity  can  never  cease  to 
admire.  The  sermons  of  the  immortal  Edwards, 
though  wholly  destitute  of  ornament,  are  in  the  highest 
degree  instructive,  and  contain  perhaps  the  most 
powerful  appeals  to  the  heart  and  conscience  which 
are  to  be  found  out  of  the  Bible.  President  Davies' 
sermons  have  justly  acquired  a  high  celebrity  for  a 
dignified,  forcible,  and  solemn  exhibition  of  divine 
truth,  and  for  a  devotional  fervor  and  sacred  unction, 
which  indicate  that  they  were  dictated  by  a  heart  full 
of  faith  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  sermons  of 
Eobert  Walker,  a  modern  Scotch  divine,  are  fine 
specimens  of  an  evangelical  spirit,  and  admirably 
adapted  to  promote  the  influence  of  practical  religion. 
Jay^s  sermons  are  full  of  truth  and  life  and  beauty, 
and  are  fitted  to  be  alike  gratifying  to  a  refined  taste, 
and  an  elevated  piety.  The  sermons  of  the  late  Doctor 
Lathrop  are  written  with  great  simplicity,  and  discover 
a  fertility  of  invention,  a  grasp  of  intellect,  an  enlight- 
ened view  of  scripture  doctrine,  and  an  elevation  of 
pious  feeling,  which,  to  say  the  least,  are  not  often 
found  in  combination.     Doctor  Mason's  sermons  are 


78  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

distinguished  for  bold  and  elevated  thought,  for  a  style 
of  classical  elegance,  and  for  overwhelming  appeals  to 
the  understandino-  and  the  heart.  The  sermons  of  Dr. 
Chalmers  can  hardly  fail  to  be  read  with  interest,  as 
the  offspring  of  an  inventive  and  powerful  mind,  and 
as  containing  a  lucid  exhibition  of  divine  truth  ;  though 
it  were  much  to  be  desired  that  the  style  in  which 
they  are  written  had  been  less  diffuse  and  involved. 
Robert  Hall  is,  in  my  opinion,  the  first  vrriter  of  ser- 
mons of  the  age.  The  irresistible  force  of  his  reason- 
ing, the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  his  thoughts,  and  the 
dignified  and  graceful  manner  in  which  they  are  ex- 
pressed, in  connection  with  the  truly  evangehcal  spirit 
which  pervades  them,  render  his  sermons  as  perfect 
specunens  of  this  kind  of  writing,  perhaps,  as  the  world 
may  expect  to  see.  I  might  extend  this  list  almost 
indefinitely,  but  I  am  willing  to  leave  much  to  your 
own  judgment ;  and  those  which  have  been  mentioned 
are  probably  enough  to  occupy  as  much  leisure  as  you 
will  be  able  to  give  to  this  kind  of  reading. 

S^me  portion  of  your  rehgious  reading  will  of  course 
be  of  a  miscellaneous  character.  Without  attempting 
to  give  you  a  list  of  books  in  this  department,  for  I 
should  not  Imow  where  to  begin  or  where  to  end,  I 
will  simply  mention  two  or  three  authors  whose  works 
appear  to  me  to  have  a  special  claim  upon  your  atten- 
tion. Wilberforce^s  Practical  View  has  probably  been 
one  of  the  most  useful  books  which  the  present  age 
has  produced.     Its  influence  in  elevating  the  standard 


GENERAL  READING.  19 

of  piety,  especially  in  the  higher  circles  in  Great 
Britain,  it  is  impossible  adequately  to  estimate,  and 
happily  its  circulation  has  been  extended  through 
almost  every  part  of  Protestant  Christendom.  In  an 
interview  which  I  was  once  privileged  to  hold  with 
that  venerable  man,  I  remember  his  adverting  with 
the  highest  gratification,  and  yet  with  the  deepest 
humility,  to  the  success  with  which  God  had  been 
pleased  to  crown  that  effort  of  his  for  the  advance- 
ment of  evangelical  truth  and  piety ;  and  there  was 
every  thing  in  his  remarks  and  in  his  manner  of  making 
them,  to  indicate  that  he  regarded  himself  only  as  an 
unworthy  instrument,  and  ascribed  to  God  all  the 
glory.  The  works  of  Doctor  Dick  of  Scotland,  in 
several  volumes,  beginning  with  "the  Christian  Phi- 
losopher," are  exceedingly  well  worthy  not  only  of 
'  being  read,  but  dihgently  studied.  No  other  writer 
within  my  knowledge  has  so  happily  illustrated  the 
mutual  relations  of  science  and  religion  ;  and  whoever 
can  read  his  admirable  works  without  finding  the 
powers  of  his  intellect  quickened,  and  his  reverence 
for  the  divine  character  increased,  and  his  views  of  his 
own  insignificance  and  unworthiness  deepened,  and  a 
spirit  of  benevolence  glowing  more  intensely  in  his 
bosom,  must  either  be  destitute  of  an  understanding 
to  comprehend  what  he  reads,  or  must  have  a  heart 
that  is  proof  against  the  most  hallowed,  the  most  im- 
pressive exhibitions  of  divine  truth.  The  writings  of 
the  Rev.  John  Angell  James,  consisting  of  several 


80  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 

practical  treatises  on  different  subjects,  as  they  have 
acquired  a  great  and  deserved  popularity  in  this  coun- 
try, will  not,  I  trust,  escape  your  attention.  They  are 
characterized  by  an  uncommonly  attractive  style  and 
copiousness  and  originality  of  thought,  and  exhibit  the 
truths  and  duties  of  Christianity  with  great  unction 
and  loveliness.  I  perceive  that  a  new  work  from  this 
interesting  writer  is  just  announced,  designed  particu- 
larly to  aid  the  inquiring  sinner,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
that  it  will  prove  a  most  useful  auxiliary  to  the  cause 
of  revivals. 

I  cannot  conclude  this  letter  without  urging  you  to 
a  diligent  and  daily  perusal  of  the  holy  Scriptures. 
Remember  that  this  is  the  great  fountain  of  wisdom ; 
that  it  contains  an  infallible  record  of  the  dispensations 
of  God  towards  our  world  ;  that  it  faithfully  exhibits 
the  character  of  man,  and  opens  up  a  way  by  which 
he  may  attain  to  a  glorious  destination.  Recollect, 
too,  that  there  is  nothing  which  approaches  the  Bible, 
as  a  mere  human  composition,  in  point  of  interest ;  no 
other  historical  record  of  equal  antiquity ;  no  other 
specimens  with  which  those  of  the  Scriptures  can  be 
compared,  of  beautiful  simplicity  or  overpowering 
grandeur.  You  may  find  various  important  helps  to 
the  study  of  the  Scriptures ;  but  there  is  none  within 
my  knowledge  which  I  deem  so  important  as  the  Intro- 
duction to  the  Study  of  the  Scriptures,  by  the  Rev. 
Thomas  Hartwell  Home  ;  a  work  which  for  extent  of 
well-djgested  biblical  learning  has  scarcely  a  parallel 


GENERAL  READINOr.  81 

in  the  productions  of  any  age.  I  say  again,  then,  read 
the  Bible  attentively,  every  day  of  your  life.  Read  it 
in  its  connection,  observing  carefully  how  one  part  of 
it  is  illustrated  and  confirmed  by  another.  Read  it 
with  a  deep  and  practical  impression  that  it  contains 
the  words  of  eternal  life — a  message  which  he  that 
believeth  shall  be  saved,  and  he  that  believeth  not 
shall  be  damned.  In  this  way  your  mind  will  become 
early  imbued  with  heavenly  wisdom,  your  affections 
will  become  purified  and  elevated,  and  your  whole 
character  gradually  conformed  to  that  standard  of 
perfection  which  the  Bible  reveals. 

With  the  earnest  hope  that  you  may  obey  these 
directions,  and  thus  become  wise  and  good  while  you 
are  young, 

I  remain  your  ever  affectionate 

FATHER. 


Lot  to  Dau^h. 


a 


LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTEK. 


1 


LETTER  VII. 

INDEPENDENCE  OF  MIND. 


My  dear  Child — There  is  scarcely  any  quality 
which  is  more  frequently  the  theme  of  eulogy  among 
all  classes,  than  that  whict  is  to  constitute  the  subject 
of  this  letter.  The  good  and  the  bad  alike  will  extol 
something  which  each  calls  independence  of  mind ; 
and  all  will  agree,  that  the  quality  which  is  indicated 
by  this  language  is  an  essential  element  in  a  truly 
noble  cliaracter.  But  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  the 
expression  has  a  variety  of  meaning  with  different  in- 
dividuals :  that  with  some  it  indicates  what  is  truly 
great  and  noble ;  with  others,  what  is  unlovely,  and 
even  odious  :  it  becomes,  therefore,  a  matter  of  impor- 
tance that  you  should  distinguish  the  precious  from 
the  vile — that  you  should  take  care  to  cultivate  gen- 
uine independence  of  character,  and  not  deceive  your- 
self with  something  which  has  been  unjustly  compli- 
mented witli  the  name. 

Let  me  apprise  you  then,  in  the  first  place,  that 
true  independence  is  something  entirely  different  from 
rashness.    There  are  those  who  pride  themselves  on 


INDEPENDENCE  OF  MIND.  83 

forming  a  hasty  opinion,  and  adopting  a  course  ol 
conduct,  even  in  relation  to  subjects  of  great  moment, 
without  stopping  to  look  at  the  indications  of  Provi- 
dence, or  reflect  at  all  on  probable  consequences.  It 
matters  little  with  them  though  they  act  entirely  in 
the  dark,  provided  only  their  movements  are  so  rapid 
and  boisterous  as  to  excite  attention.  Persons  of  thia 
character,  you  will  always  find,  run  themselves  into  a 
thousand  needless  difficulties.  Even  if  they  chance  tc 
go  right,  every  judicious  person  will  consider  it  a  mat- 
ter of  mere  accident,  and  to  say  the  least,  will  give 
them  far  less  credit  for  virtuous  conduct,  than  if  they 
had  adopted  the  same  course  with  forethought  and 
deliberation. 

True  independence  of  the  mind  is  equally  unlike 
obstinacy,  another  quality  with  which  it  is  often  con- 
founded. When  a  person  has  once  formed  an  opinion 
and  expressed  it,  especially  with  a  great  degree  of  confi- 
dence, and  perhaps  withal  with  some  publicity,  he  is  un- 
der strong  temptation,  from  the  pride  of  consistency,  to 
retain  that  opinion,  even  in  spite  of  fight  which  oiight 
to  induce  him  to  abandon  it.  The  secret  feefing  of 
his  heart  is,  that  it  would  be  a  reflection  either  upon 
his  discernment  or  his  firmness,  to  avow  a  change  in 
his  convictions ;  and  hence  he  endeavors  to  shut  his 
eyes  upon  the  evidence  which  might  be  likely  to  work 
such  a  change ;  or  if  the  light  is  irresistible,  and  the 
change  is  forced  upon  him,  he  will  refuse  to  acknow- 
ledge it,  and  will  even  act  in  a  manner  which  he  knows 


84  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

to  be  contrary  to  his  own  interest,  rather  than  confess 
that  he  has  been  in  a  mistake.  This  is  nothing  short 
of  the  most  pitiable  obstinacy  ;  and  whoever  exhibits 
it  exposes  himself  to  deserved  contempt.  Remember 
that  it  is  an  honor  to  confess  an  error  as  soon  as  you 
discover  it,  and  as  publicly  as  you  may  have  avowed 
it.  All  will  think  the  better  of  you  for  doing  so  ;  or 
if  there  be  any  exceptions,  they  are  those  whose  praise 
is  censure,  and  whose  censure  praise. 

Equally  remote  is  the  quality  which  I  would  recom- 
mend from  a  contempt  of  the  opinion  of  others.  It  is 
not  uncommon  to  find  persons  who  seem  to  regard 
their  own  opinion  as  infallible,  and  who  treat  the 
opinion  of  others  with  proportionate  disrespect.  No 
matter  though  the  subject  be  one  in  respect  to  which 
they  may  be  utterly  ignorant,  they  will  deliver  their 
opinion  with  dictatorial  confidence,  and  will  treat  every 
objection  and  every  query  as  if  it  were,  of  course,  the 
offspring  of  folly  or  impertinence.  True  independence, 
so  far  from  giving  its  sanction  to  this  spirit,  disdains 
not  to  ask  advice  of  the  wise,  and  always  treats  then* 
opinions  with  respect,  though  it  does  not  yield  to  them 
an  implicit  consent.  You  need  not  fear  that  you  will 
forfeit  your  character  for  decision,  by  asking  judicious 
friends  to  counsel  you  on  any  important  subject  on 
which  you  may  be  called  to  act ;  indeed,  a  neglect  to 
do  so  would  justly  expose  you  to  the  charge  of  vanity 
and  presumption.  On  the  subject  of  asking  advice, 
however,  let  me  give  you  two  brief  directions.     One 


INDEPENDENCE  OF  MIND,  85 

is,  that  you  should  consult  only  those  whose  advice  is 
worthy  of  your  attention  ;  the  other  is,  that  you  should 
never  consult  any  one  after  your  decision  is  formed. 
It  is  nothing  better  than  an  insult  to  a  friend,  to  go 
through  the  formality  of  asking  his  advice,  and  sub- 
jecting him  to  the  trouble  of  giving  it,  when  your 
opinion  is  decisively  made  up,  and  you  only  wish  him 
to  sanction  it.  You  cannot  adopt  this  course  without 
some  danger ;  for  if  the  individual  whom  you  consult 
happens  to  discover  the  secret,  he  must  be  a  good- 
natured  person  indeed  not  to  be  vexed  at  it :  if  he 
happens  to  advise  you  contrary  to  your  predetermina- 
tion, then  you  subject  yourself  to  the  unpleasant  ne- 
cessity of  acting  contrary  to  his  opinion  after  you  had 
formally  sought  it.  1 1",  is  wise  to  seek  counsel  of 
proper  persons  ;  but  it  should  always  be  to  assist  one 
to  form  an  opinion,  not  merely  lo  strengthen  it  after 
it  is  formed. 

The  independence  which  I  wish  you  to  cultivate  is 
that  quality  which  leads  us  to  form  all  our  opinions 
deliberately,  and  from  the  best  light  Vfhich  we  can 
gain,  and  then  to  adhere  to  them  firmly  and  practical- 
ly, until  there  shall  be  sufficient  evidence  to  reverse 
our  convictions. 

This  quaUty  discovers  itself  in  the  very  formation 
of  opinions  or  principles.  It  keeps  the  mind  steady 
amidst  the  conflicting  views  which  may  be  presented 
before  it.  It  causes  it  to  look  attentively  at  the  evi- 
dence on  every  side,  and  to  resist  the  undue  influence 


•86  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

of  circumstances,  and  to  form  its  conclusions  aftei 
intelligent  and  impartial  inquiry.  Not  that  a  person 
with  this  principle  in  operation  will  never  be  embar- 
rassed with  difficulties  in  respect  to  the  path  of  duty : 
these  difficulties  may  accumulate  to  such  a  degree,  as 
to  keep  the  mind  for  a  long  time  in  suspense  ;  but  let 
them  be  formidable  as  they  may,  the  mind  will  soberly 
and  calmly  consider  them  all,  and  will  ultimately  dis- 
pose of  them  to  its  own  satisfaction.  If  you  have 
genuine  independence,  then,  it  will  keep  you  from  in- 
considerate and  hasty  judgments.  It  will  save  you 
from  being  enslaved  to  the  opinions  of  others,  and  from 
adopting  notions  merely  because  they  are  current  in 
the  community  around  you.  In  short,  it  will  subject 
you  to  the  labor  of  forming  your  own  judgments  ;  but 
when  they  are  once  formed  it  will  insure  to  you  the 
satisfaction  of  thinking  that  they  are  your  own. 

But  this  trait  of  character  discovers  itself,  not  only 
in  the  process  by  which  we  arrive  at  our  convictions 
of  what  is  true  and  right,  but  also  in  an  intelligent 
adherence  to  those  convictions  after  they  are  attained. 
It  usually  happens  that  those  opinions  which  are 
formed  most  inconsiderately,  are  relinquished  most 
easily;  whereas,  they  who  have  come  to  their  con- 
clusions by  a  process  of  deliberate  and  independent 
thought,  rarely  have  occasion  to  change  their  views, 
and  never,  but  upon  the  most  patient  and  mature  re- 
flection. In  other  words,  the  mind  that  thinks  for 
itself  in  the  beginning,  will  almost  of  course  continue 


liSTDEPENDENCE   OF  MIND.  87 

to  think  for  itself  during  the  whole  of  its  subsequent 
course.  If  difficulties  arise  in  connection  with  any 
opinion  which  were  not  contemplated  when  that  opin- 
ion was  originally  formed,  they  will  of  course  be  care- 
fully weighed,  and  due  importance  will  be  given  to 
them  ;  but  the  mind  will  not  be  at  the  mercy  of  every 
caviller :  unless  there  be  new  and  decisive  evidence  of 
an  opposite  kind  presented  to  it,  in  which  case  it 
would  be  obstinacy  not  to  yield,  it  marches  on  in  the 
strength  and  majesty  of  its  own  original  convictions. 

I  have  spoken  of  an  independent  mind  as  it  dis- 
covers itself  in  forming  and  holding  fast  its  own  opin- 
ions. Let  me  add,  that  it  is  not  less  conspicuous  in 
reducing  principles  to  practice ;  in  other  words,  in 
steadily  persevering  in  what  we  believe  to  be  duty.  It 
requires  far  less  strength  of  purpose  to  avow  good 
principles,  even  in  times  of  trial,  than  practically  to 
exhibit  those  principles  in  an  unyielding  course  of 
action.  But  as  principles  are  nothing  without  prac- 
tice, so  it  is  the  noblest  office  of  genuine  independence, 
to  carry  the  mind  forward  in  a  course  of  action  cor- 
responding with  its  own  convictions ;  to  keep  the 
hands  nerved  for  effort  when  there  may  be  a  thousand 
pleas  for  relaxing  exertion  ;  and  to  give  to  this  activity 
that  direction  only  which  conscience  approves,  when 
the  strongest  temptations  offer  themselves  to  an  op- 
posite course.  You  may  dream  of  your  own  indepen- 
dence as  much  as  you  please,  but  unless  it  be  of  this 
practical  kind  which  influeuces  conduct  as  well  as 


88  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTEft.     • 

opinions,  and  which  is  carried  out  into  all  the  depart' 
ments  of  human  duty,  you  have  much  reason  to  believe 
that  neither  you  nor  the  world  will  be  the  better  for 
your  having  possessed  it. 

The  advantages  of  an  independent  mind  will  readily 
occur  to  you  upon  a  moment's  reflection.  One  of  them 
is,  that  it  furnishes  the  best  security  you  can  have,  in- 
dependently of  a  principle  of  Christfan  holiness,  against 
false  principles  and  corrupt  practice.  It  is  especially 
in  consequence  of  the  want  of  this.  quaUty,  that  so 
many  young  persons  become  victims  to  the  most  prac- 
tical and  fatal  errors.  They  are  placed  in  circum- 
stances in  which  it  is  fashionable  to  think  lightly  of 
religion,  or  fashionable  to  disbelieve  its  truths ;  and 
though  at  first  conscience  may  remonstrate  against 
their  throwing  themselves  into  the  current,  yet  they 
have  not  strength  of  puipose  to  resist  it ;  and  princi- 
ples which  were  at  first  adopted  tremblingly,  and  with 
severe  compunction,  are  soon  rendered  more  tolerable 
by  habit ;  and  at  no  distant  period  they  become  the 
governing  principles  of  the  life.  A  proper  share  of 
independence  would  keep  you  from  adopting  any  opin- 
ions without  due  consideration  ;  and  if  error  in  auy  of 
its  forms  should  be  proposed  to  you,  and  you  should 
stop  to  canvass  it,  and  should  determine  that  you 
would  not  receive  it  but  upon  dehberate  and  intelli- 
gent conviction,  there  is  good  reason  to  believe  that 
you  would  not  receive  it  at  all ;  for  there  is  no  funda- 
mental error  in  religion  or  morals  which  is  not  seen  to 


INDEPENDENCE  OF  MIND.  89 

be  such  by  any  one  who  examines  it  with  due  attention 
and  impartiality. 

It  is  another  advantage  of  genuine  independence, 
and  ought  to  be  with  you  a  powerful  motive  for  culti- 
vating it,  that  it  is  fitted  to  give  you  a  proper  degree 
of  self-respect.  If  you  see  an  individual  who  betrays 
great  indecision  of  character,  and  is  a  slave  to  the 
opinion  of  every  body,  having  no  opinion  of  his  own, 
you  cannot  regard  that  individual  other  than  with  a 
species  of  pity,  which  borders  well-nigh  upon  contempt. 
And  the  same  must  be  true  in  respect  to  yourself :  if 
you  are  conscious  that  you  have  no  stabiUty  of  pur- 
pose, and  that  your  opinions  of  characters  and  things 
are  not  your  own,  but  are  taken  upon  trust,  and  that~ 
you  do  not  think  your  own  thoughts  even  upon  the 
most  common  subjects,  you  may  try  to  respect  yourself, 
but  you  cannot ;  and  moreover,  you  will  be  compelled 
to  feel  the  mortifying  conviction  that  others  do  not 
respect  you.  Whatever  you  or  others  may  wish  in 
regard  to  it,  it  is  not  in  human  nature  that  it  should 
be  otherwise.  As  you  desire,  therefore,  to  live  in  the 
favorable  regards  of  others,  or  even  of  yourself,  culti- 
vate this  trait  which  I  am  recommending. 

And  I  may  add,  that  this  quality  is  not  less  essential 
to  your  usefulness.  The  fact  that  you  had  lost  self- 
respect  would  destroy,  in  a  great  degree,  your  power 
of  exertion  ;  or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  would  diminish 
the  motives  to  it ;  and  tlie  fact  that  you  had  lost  the 
respect  of  others  would  not  only  operate  in  the  same 


90-  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

manner,  but  would  tend  to  a  similar  result,  by  dimin- 
ishing your  opportunities  of  usefulness.  And  more- 
over, let  your  efforts  be  what  they  might,  little  real 
good  could  be  expected  from  them  so  long  as  they 
were  not  subject  to  the  direction  of  an  independent 
mind ;  for  if  you  should  labor  for''  a  good  object  one 
day,  there  could  be  no  security  that  you  would  not 
abandon  it  for  an  evil  one  the  next ;  or  if  you  should 
seem  to  be  laboring  successfully  for  a  while,  it  is  quite 
probable  that  you  might  soon  defeat  your  purpose  by 
some  eccentric  and  ill-advised  movement.  Under  how 
much  greater  advantages  will  your  efforts  be  made  if 
you  cultivate  a  suitable  spirit  of  independence.  The 
fact  that  you  are  conscious  of  doing  right  will  render 
your  exertions  easy  and  unembarrassed.  The  fact 
that  you  have  the  respect  and  confidence  of  those 
around  you,  will  multiply  your  means  of  doing  good. 
And  the  fact  that  you  are  acting  with  reflection  and 
firmness,  will  impart  an  energy  and  efficiency  to  your " 
whole  deportment.  As  you  would  be  spared  the  re- 
proach of  living  to  little  or  no  purpose,  let  me  say 
again,  cultivate  a  truly  independent  mind. 

As  the  most  effectual  means  of  making  the  attain- 
ment to  which  I  have  been  urging  you,  let  me  counsel 
you  to  cherish  a  deep  sense  of  the  constant  presence 
of  God,  and  of  your  accountableness  to  him  for  every 
part  of  your  conduct.  An  habitual  impression  of  this 
kind  will  make  you  comparatively  indifferent,  both  to 
the  censures  and  applauses  of  mortals,  and  will  lead 


INDEPENDENCE  OF  MIND.  91 

you  to  regard  every  other  question  as  unimportant,  in 
comparison  with  the  simple  question  of  duty.  And 
the  consequence  of  this  cannot  fail  to  be,  that  you  will 
judge  carefully  and  honestly  of  what  is  right,  and  will 
act  with  unyielding  decision.  No  matter  what  temp- 
tations may  spread  themselves  before  you  to  divert 
you  from  the  path  of  duty,  the  reflection,  "  Thou,  God, 
seest  me,"  brought  home  to  your  understanding  and 
conscience,  will  insure  you  the  victory  over  them. 
This  is  something  distmct  from  natural  inflexibility  of 
character:  it  is  independence  of  mind,  based  on  re- 
ligious principle  ;  and  it  is  this  especially  which  I  urge 
you  to  cultivate.  That  I  may  be  permitted  to  see  your 
character  forming  under  the  influence  of  this  elevated 
principle,  is  the  earnest  wish  of 

Your  affectionate 

FATHER. 


imm^m 


92,  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUOHTEE 


LETTER   VIII. 

FORMINa  THE  MANNERS. 

My  dear  Child — ISText  in  importance  to  the  culture 
of  your  heart  and  understanding,  is  the  formation  of 
your  manners.  You  shall  have  the  grounds  on  which 
I  form  this  opinion. 

There  are  multitudes  who  will  have  no  other  crite- 
rion than  is  hereby  furnished,  by  which  to  judge  of 
your  character.  In  the  varied  intercourse  of  society, 
you  meet  many  persons,  perhaps  only  for  a  single  time 
in  the  course  of  your  life.  They  almost  of  course  form 
some  opinion  of  you ;  and  that  opinion  is  built  upon 
what  they  witness  of  your  general  appearance.  With 
good  manners  you  may  leave  an  impression  upon  a 
stranger,  from  a  casual  meeting  with  him,  which  may 
cause  him  to  hold  you  in  grateful  remembrance  through 
life.  With  manners  of  an  opposite  character  you 
would  eithef  be  passed  unnoticed,  or  perhaps  remem- 
bered only  as  a  glaring  specimen  of  affectation  or 
rudeness. 

It  deserves  also  to  be  borne  in  mind,  that  in  nearly 
every  case  the  first  impressions  of  the  character  are 


FORMINa  THE  MANNERS.  93 

gathered  from  the  manners ;  and  every  one  knows 
that  first  impressions  are  not  easily  eradicated.  In- 
stances are  not  uncommon  in  which  an  individual,  on 
the  first  introduction  to  another,  has  been  struck  with 
some  apparent  defect  of  disposition,  as  indicated  by 
the  manners ;  and  though  he  may  have  been  subse- 
quently convinced  that  the  impression  was  a  mistaken 
one,  has  found  it  next  to  impossible  to  forget  it  in  the 
estimate  he  forms  of  the  character.  If  your  manners 
are  as  they  should  be,  it  will  give  you  this  great  ad- 
vantage in  respect  to  every  acquaintance  you  form — 
that  the  individual,  from  the  beginning,  will  be  pre- 
possessed in  your  favor.  If  otherwise,  the  best  you 
can  hope  is,  that  in  finding  your  way  ultimately  into 
the  favorable  regards  of  other  people,  you  will  have 
to  encounter  a  mass  of  prejudice. 

But  leaving  first  impressions  out  of  view,  there  hs 
something  in  the  very  constitution  of  human  nature 
which  inclines  us  to  form  a  judgment  of  character  from 
manners.  It  is  always  taken  for  granted,  unless  there 
is  decisive  evidence  to  the  contrary,  that  the  manners 
are  the  genuine  expression  of  the  feelings ;  and  even 
where  such  evidence  exists,  that  is,  where  we  have 
every  reason  to  believe  that  the  external  appearance 
does  injustice  to  the  moral  dispositions,  or,  on  the 
other  hand,  where  the  heart  is  too  favorably  repre- 
sented by  the  manners,  there  is  still  a  delusion  prac- 
fcised  upon  the  mind  by  what  passes  under  the  eye, 
which  it  is  not  easy  to  resist.     You  may  take  two 


94  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

individuals  of  precisely  the  same  degree  of  intellectual 
and  moral  worth,  and  let  the  manners  of  the  one  be 
bland  and  attractive,  and  those  of  the  other  distant 
or  awkward,  and  you  will  find  that  the  former  will 
pass  through  life  with  far  more  ease  and  comfort 
than  the  latter ;  for,  though  good  manners  will  never 
effectually  conceal  a  bad  heart,  and  are  in  no  case 
any  atonement  for  it,  yet,  taken  in  connection  with 
amiable  and  virtuous  dispositions,  they  naturally  and 
necessarily  gain  upon  the  respect  and  good-will  of 
mankmd. 

You  will  instantly  perceive,  if  the  preceding  remarks 
are  correct,  that  it  is  not  only  your  interest  to  cultivate 
good  manners,  as  you  hereby  recommend  yourself  to 
the  favorable  regards  of  others,  but  also  your  duty,  as 
it  increases,  in  no  small  degree,  your  means  of  useful- 
ness. It  will  give  you  access  to  many  persons,  and 
give  you  an  influence  over  them,  whom  you  could 
otherwise  never  approach,  much  less  whose  feelings 
and  purposes  you  could  ever  hope  in  any  measure  to 
control.  I  have  known  one  instance  at  least,  and  I 
doubt  not  that  thousands  of  others  have  occurred,  m 
which  an  affectionate  and  winning  manner  has  been 
rendered  instrumental,  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  of  breaking 
up  the  delusions  of  impenitence ;  and,  as  I  trust,  of 
saving  a  soul  from  death  and  hiding  a  multitude  of 
sins.  In  the  very  case  to  which  I  refer,  I  have  little 
doubt  that  an  air  of  indifference  or  severity  would  have 
closed  up  the  avenues  to  the  heart,  and  not  improbably 


FORMINa  THE  MANNERS.  95 

barred 'it,  in  all  future  time,  against  the  light  and 
power  of  conviction. 

There  is  yet  another  reason  why  this  subject  is  de- 
serving of  your  attention.  It  is,  that  as  the  manners 
derive  their  complexion  in  a  great  degree  from  the 
feelings,  so  the  feelings  are  in  turn  influenced  by  the 
manners.  Suppose,  from  your  partiality  to  some  friend, 
you  should  undertake  to  adopt  some  weak  peculiarity 
in  her  deportment,  it  is  more  than  probable,  if  the 
foolish  experiment  should  succeed,  that  you  would  find 
yourself,  at  no  distant  period,  with  a  set  of  feelings 
strongly  assimilated  to  those  of  the  individual  whom 
you  had  sought  to  copy.  Cultivate  good  manners, 
then,  as  one  means  of  improving  your  dispositions,  and 
imparting  real  excellence  to  your  character. 

That  you  may  attain  the  object  which  I  am  recom- 
mending, let  me  advise  you  to  lay  the  foundation 
aright,  by  cultivating  good  and  amiable  feelings. 
Without  these,  though  you  should  attain  what  may 
pass  with  the  world  for  good  manners,  they  will  only 
serve  to  convict  you  of  hypocrisy  ;  for,  however  it  may 
be  with  others,  you  must  yourself  know  that  they  do 
not  indicate  your  real  character.  Endeavor  then  to 
banish  from  your  heart  all  evil  dispositions,  and  to 
cherish  every  temper  that  is  amiable  and  praiseworthy. 
Resist,  with  unyielding  firmness,  the  operations  of 
pride,  envy,  jealousy,  and  every  other  bad  passion. 
There  are  indeed  infinitely  higher  motives  which  urge 
you  to  this  course  than  are  derived  from  its  influ- 


96  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

ence  in  forming  your  manners  •  though  it  is  with 
reference  to  this  exclusively  that  I  direct  your  atten- 
tion to  it  now.  Nothing  is  so  effectual  a  security  for 
good  manners,  at  least,  nothing  constitutes  so  good  a 
foundation  for  them,  as  the  spirit  of  Christianity.  Let 
that  reign  in  the  heart,  purifying,  softening,  elevating 
its  various  affections  and  propensities,  and  there  you 
may  look  with  confidence  for  an  exhibition  of  genuine 
politeness. 

In  connection  with  the  cultivation  of  benevolent 
feelings,  it  is  necessary  that  you  should  acquire  that 
habit  of  self-possession  which  will  enable  you  at  all 
times  to  act  out  your  feelings  without  embarrassment. 
Where  the  manners  are  seen  to  indicate  amiable  moral 
qualities,  and  especially  the  gentle  and  benignant  spirit 
of  the  gospel,  this  will  go  far  to  atone  for  any  lesser 
imperfections  by  which  they  may  be  marked.  Never- 
theless, it  is  desirable  that  you  should  appear  not  only 
amiable,  but  unconstrained — that  you  should  feel  at 
ease  yourself,  and  be  able  to  put  others  at  ease  around 
you.  You  will  be  placed,  almost  of  course,  in  a  vari- 
ety of  situations  :  it  is  important  that  you  should  have 
that  habitual  self-command  that  will  enable  you  readily 
to  accommodate  yourself  to  the  peculiarities  of  each ; 
and  at  least  to  conceal  from  those  around  you  the  secret 
that  you  are  not  perfectly  at  home.  I  da  not  say  that 
this  is  essential  to  your  passing  in  good  society,  but  it 
certainly  is  essential  to  the  perfection  of  good  manners. 

It  is  important  also,  that  you  should  form  a  proper 


FORMINa  THE  MANNERS.  9T 

estim-ate  of  your  own  relative  standing  in  society,  and 
of  what  belongs  to  the  various  relations  you  sustain  to 
those  around  you.  If  you  imagine  yourself  of  more 
consequence  than  you  really  are,  it  follows,  almost  of 
course,  that  you  will  betray  that  opinion  in  an  air  of 
self-respect  which  borders  upon  arrogance.  If  you 
form  too  low  an  opinion  of  yourself,  you  will  be  likely 
to  make  it  manifest  in  a  cringing  manner,  which  cannot 
fail  to  leave  an  impression  of  your  inferiority.  If  you 
form  a  true  relative  estimate  of  yourself,  it  will  be  a 
security  against  the  extremes  both  of  arrogance  and 
of  servility  ;  it  will  render  you  dignified  without  being- 
haughty,  condescending  without  sacrificing  a  proper 
self-respect,  and  will  make  you  acceptable  alike  in  the 
higher  and  lower  walks  of  life. 

I  must  not  omit  to  mention  that  it  is  of  great  im- 
portance to  the  formation  of  good  manners,  that  you 
should  be  accustomed  to  mingle  in  good  society.  I  do 
not  mean  that  you  should  select  all  your  associates 
from  the  more  elevated  walks  of  life,  for  this  would 
be  likely  to  unfit  you  for  mingling  with  ease  and  ad- 
vantage among  the  lower  classes ;  but  I  would  have 
you  so  much  in  cultivated  society  that  you  shall  feel 
perfectly  at  home,  and  that  your  manners  shall  appear 
to  have  been  formed  upon  a  model  of  eleg-ance  and 
refinement.  It  is  a  rare  instance  indeed,  that  a  young 
female  who  is  habitually  accustomed  to  society  of  a 
rude  or  grovelling  character,  ever  becomes  graceful  or 
dignified  in  her  own  manners  ;  and  on  the  other  hand, 

Let.  to  Dau'i-h.  7 


98  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUOHTER. 

where  her  intimate  associates  are  persons  of  intelli- 
gence and  refinement,  it  is  almost  a  matter  of  course, 
that  she  becomes  conformed,  in  a  good  degree,  to  the 
models  with  which  she  is  conversant. 

But  while  you  ought  highly  to  estimate  the  privilege 
of  good  society  as  a  means  of  forming  your  manners, 
you  cannot  too  cautiously  guard  against  servile  imita- 
tion. You  may  have  a  friend  whose  manners  seem  to 
you  to  combine  every  quality  that  is  necessary  to  ren- 
der them  a  perfect  model ;  who  unites  elegant  sim- 
plicity with  generous  frankness,  and  dignified  address 
with  winning  condescension ;  who,  in  short,  is  every 
thing,  in  this  respect,  that  you  could  wish  to  be  your- 
self ;  but  after  all,  it  would  be  unwise  in  you  to  become 
a  servile  copyist  even  of  such  manners.  For  you  are 
to  remember,  that  a  certain  cast  of  manners  suits  a 
certain  cast  of  character ;  and  unless  your  character 
were  precisely  that  of  the  individual  whom  you  should 
imitate,  you  would,  in  attempting  to  assume  her  ad- 
dress, deservedly  expose  yourself  to  the  charge  of 
affectation.  You  will  therefore  do  yourself  much  bet- 
ter service  by  looking  at  good  models  in  a  general 
manner,  and  by  endeavoring  to  become  imbued  with 
their  spirit,  than  by  making  any  direct  efforts  to  be- 
come exactly  conformed  to  them.  Indeed,  it  may  be 
doubted  whether  you  will  not  reap  every  possible  ad- 
vantage by  simply  mingling  in  their  society,  without 
even  thinking  of  them  as  models. 

Let  me  caution  you  here  more  particularly  to  be 


FORMlNa  THE  MANNERS.  99 

on  your  guard  against  affectation.  This  is  vety  easily 
acquired,  and  is  so  common  a  fault,  that  the  absence 
of  it  is  always  remarked  as  a  great  excellence.  I  have 
known  females  of  many  amiable  qualities,  and  consid- 
erable mtelligence,  who  have  been  absolutely  spoiled 
for  society  by  attempting  to  assume  in  then*  manners 
what  did  not  belong  to  them.  Wherever  any  thing 
of  this  kind  exists,  it  requires  but  little  sagacity  to  de- 
tect it ;  and  even  those  who  are  not  exactly  sensible 
where  the  evil  lies,  are  still  aware  that  there  is  some- 
thing which  needs  to  be  corrected.  It  happens  how- 
ever, too  frequently,  that  what  is  quite  palpable  to 
every  body  else  escapes  the  observation  of  the  indi- 
vidual who  is  the  subject  of  it ;  and  I  have  known 
glaring  cases,  in  which  the  kindest  intimation  of  the 
fact,  from  a  friend,  has  been  met  with  expressions  of 
resentment.  I  beg  that  you  will  not  only  have  your 
ears  open  to, any  admonition  you  may  ever  receive  on 
this  subject,  but  your  eyes  open,  to  inspect  narrowly 
your  own  conduct,  that  you  may  detect  the  fault  if  it 
really  exists.  It  is  always  regarded,  and  justly  re- 
garded, as  an  indication  of  consummate  folly  ;  and  un- 
less it  happens  to  be  associated  with  an  unusual  cluster 
of  real  excellences,  it  brings  upon  the  individual  little 
less  than  absolute  contempt.  Let  your  manners  be  as 
much  improved  as  they  may,  but  regard  it  as  an 
essential  matter  that  they  should  be  your  own. 

Beware  also  of  an  ostentatious  manner.     By  this  I 
mean  that  kmd  of  manner  which  savors  too  much  of 


100  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

display';' which  indicates  a  disposition  to  make  your- 
self too  conspicuous  ;  and  which,  in  short,  is  the  acting 
out  of  a  spirit  of  self-confidence  and  self-conceit.  This 
appears  badly  enough  when  discovered  in  a  man  ;  but 
in  a  female,  and  especially  in  a  young  female,  it  is  ab- 
solutely intolerable.  Not  that  I  wish  to  see  you  awk- 
wardly bashful,  or  liable  to  embarrassment  from  every 
slight  change  of  circumstances  ;  but  between  this  and 
the  ostentatious  manner  which  I  am  condemning,  there 
is  a  happy  medium  consisting  of  a  due  mixture  of  con- 
fidence and  modesty,  which  will  be  equally  pleasant  to 
yourself  and  those  with  whom  you  associate.  But  if 
you  must  err  on  either  extreme,  I  had  rather  it  would 
be  on  that  of  difi&dence  than  of  ostentation.  I  had 
rather  you  should  excite,  by  your  bashfulness,  a  feel- 
ing of  compassion,  than  by  your  excessive  confidence 
a  feeling  of  disgust. 

But  while  you  are  carefully  to  avoid  ostentation, 
you  are  to  guard  with  no  less  caution  against  a  studied 
reserve.  We  sometimes  meet  with  persons  whose 
manners  leave  upon  our  minds  the  painful  impression 
that  they  are  afraid  to  trust  us  ;  and  that  they  regard 
both  our  actions  and  words  with  suspicion.  Wherever 
this  trait  appears,  it  is  almost  certain  to  excite  anger 
or  disgust.  Most  persons  will  bear  any  thing  with 
more  patience  than  to  be  told,  either  directly  or  indi- 
rectly, that  they  are  unworthy  of  confidence.  A  sig- 
nificant smile,  or  nod,  or  look,  with  a  third  person, 
which  is  intended  not  to  be  understood  by  the  individ- 


FORMING  THE   MANNERS.  101 

ual  with  whom  yoa  are  conv,ersing,  is  a  gross  violation 
of  propriety,  and  has  often  cost  a  deeply  wounded 
sensibility,  and  sometimes  a  valued  friendship.  ^¥hile 
you  studiously  avoid  every  thing  of  this  kind,  let  your 
manners  be  characterized  by  a  noble  frankness,  which, 
in  whatever  circumstances  you  are  placed,  shall  leave 
no  doubt  of  your  sincerity. 

I  will  only  add,  that  you  should  avoid  every  ap- 
proach to  a  haughty  and  overbearing  manner.  I 
would  fain  indulge  the  hope  that  your  feelings  will  be 
an  effectual  security  against  this  most  offensive  charac- 
teristic ;  but  be  that  as  it  may,  I  assure  you  that  you 
can  never  exhibit  it,  but  at  an  expense  of  reputation 
which  you  can  ill  afford  to  incur.  It  is  an  exhibition 
of  pride,  which  is  one  of  the  most  hateful  of  all  dis- 
positions ;  and  of  pride  in  one  of  its  most  odious  forms 
If  you  should  be  so  unhappy  as  to  furnish  an  example 
of  it,  whatever  variety  of  feeling  it  might  excite  among 
your  superiors  and  equals  and  inferiors,  you  may  rely 
on  it  they  would  all  agree  to  despise  you.  I  entreat 
you,  therefore,  as  you  value  your  character  or  useful- 
ness^ that  you  will  always  be  courteous  and  condescend- 
ing. It  is  the  mark  of  a  truly  noble  disposition  to  be 
able  to  treat  the  most  menial  and  dependent  with 
kindness  and  good  will. 

If  I  should  point  you  to  the  finest  model  of  female 
manners  which  it  has  ever  been  my  privilege  to  ob- 
serve, and  one  which  will  compare  with  the  most  per- 
fect models  of  this  or  any  other  age,  I  should  repeat  a 


102  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

venerated  name  which  I  have  already  had  occasion  to 
mention  in  another  connection — that  of  Mrs.  Hannah 
More.  It  was  my  privilege,  a  few  years  ago,  while 
on  a  tour  through  England  for  health,  to  make  a 
visit  at  the  residence  of  this  distinguished  female — a 
visit  which  I  have  ever  since  regarded  as  among  the 
happiest  incidents  of  my  life.  At  that  time  she  num- 
bered more  than  fourscore  years,  but  the  vigor  of  her 
intellect  was  scarcely  at  all  impaired ;  and  from  what 
she  was,  I  could  easily  conceive  what  she  had  been 
when  her  sun  was  at  its  meridian.  In  her  person  she 
was  rather  small,  but  was  a  specimen  of  admirable 
symmetry.  In  her  manners  she  united  the  dignity 
and  refinement  of  the  court,  with  the  most  exquisite 
urbanity  and  gentleness  which  the  female  character 
in  its  lovehest  forms  ever  exhibited.  She  impressed 
me  continually  with  a  sense  of  the  high  intellectual 
and  moral  quahties  by  which  she  was  distinguished, 
but  still  left  me  as  unconstrained  as  if  I  had  been  con- 
versing with  my  beloved  child.  There  was  an  air  of 
graceful  and  unaffected  ease,  an  instinctive  regard  to 
the  most  delicate  proprieties  of  social  intercourse,  a 
readiness  to  communicate,  and  yet  a  desire  to  listen, 
the  dignity  of  conscious  merit  united  with  the  humihty 
of  the  devoted  Christian  ;  in  short,  there  was  such  an 
assemblage  of  intellectual  and  moral  excellences  beam- 
ing forth  in  every  expression  and  look  and  attitude^ 
that  I  could  scarcely  conceive  of  a  more  perfect  ex- 
hibition of  human  character.     I  rejoice  that  it  is  your 


FORMINa  THE  MANNERS. 


103 


privilege  to  know  Mrs.  More  through  her  works  ;  and 
I  can  form  no  better  wish  for  you  than  that  you  may 
imbibe  her  spirit,  and  according  to  your  humble 
measure,  walk  in  her  footsteps. 

I  am,  with  earnest  prayers  for  your  happiness, 
Your  affectionate 

FATHER. 


2^ 


104  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 


LETTER   IX. 

CONVERSATION. 

My  dear  Child — In  the  preceding  letter  I  have 
given  you  some  general  directions  in  respect  to  the 
formation  of  your  manners.  The  subject  on  which  I 
am  now  to  address  you  is  closely  connected  "with  that ; 
but  yet,  if  I  mistake  not,  is  sufficiently  distinct  to 
justify  a  consideration  of  it  in  a  separate  letter. 

I  am  well  aware  that  the  gift  of  conversation  is 
originally  possessed  in  very  unequal  measures ;  and 
that  while  some  have  a  native  aptitude  for  social  in- 
tercourse, others  seem  to  be  constitutionally  deficient 
in  ease  and  fluency.  But  notwithstanding  this  original 
diversity,  there  is  perhaps  no  talent  that  is  more  sus- 
ceptible of  improvement  than  the  talent  for  conversa- 
tion ;  and  though  you  should  possess  it  in  ever  so 
moderate  a  degree,  you  may  still,  by  a  suitable  degree 
of  attention,  render  yourself,  in  this  respect,  decent 
and  respectable. 

The  first  requisite  for  conversing  well,  is  a  well- 
stored  and  cultivated  mind.  Without  this,  I  acknow- 
•  ledge  that  you  may  talk  fluently,  and  talk  abundantly, 


CONVERSATION.  105 

and  if  you  please,  talk  humorously ;  but  you  can'  never 
be  qualified  to  hold  your  part  to  advantage  in  intel- 
ligent social  intercourse.  If  you  move  in  the  walks 
of  cultivated  society,  you  will  find  that  a  great  variety 
of  topics  will  come  up,  beyond  the  mere  common- 
places of  the  day ;  and  unless  you  have  become  con- 
siderably conversant  with  the  various  departments  of 
knowledge,  you  will  be  subjected  to  the  mortification 
of  betraying  your  ignorance  either  by  saying  nothing, 
or  by  saying  that  which  is  not  to  the  purpose.  There 
is  no  subject  of  importance,  the  slightest  knowledge  of 
which  may  not  be  of  advantage  to  you  in  conversation  ; 
for  even  though  it  should  be  too  limited  to  enable  you 
to  impart  any  thing  to  those  with  whom  you  converse, 
it  may  be  of  great  use  in  assisting  you  to  prosecute 
your  inquiries  with  intelligence,  and  thus  to  increase 
your  own  stock  of  information.  I  would  say  then,  be 
studious  to  gain  knowledge  on  every  important  subject, 
and  do  not  regard  even  the  fragments  of  information 
as  too  unimportant  to  be  treasured  up  and  retained. 

Endeavor,  as  far  as  possible,  to  make  your  conversa- 
tion a  source  of  improvement.  The  gift  of  speech, 
like  every  other  endowment,  was  bestowed  for  an  im- 
portant purpose ;  and  that  purpose  can  never  be 
answered,  unless  it  is  made  the  vehicle  for  communi- 
cating, or  the  means  of  obtaining  useful  knowledge  or 
good  impressions.  See  then  that  you  use  this  invalu- 
able gift  as  not  abusing  it.  Wherever  it  is  in  your 
power  to  command  the  conversation,  make  it  a  primary 


106  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

object  to  give  it  such  a  turn  that  it  shall  subserve  the 
intellectual  and  moral  advantage  of  those  who  are 
engaged  in  it.  It  may  be  well  for  you,  mth  reference 
to  your  own  improvement,  to  endeavor  to  introduce 
such  topics  as  may  best  suit  the  taste  or  talents  of 
those  with  whom  you  converse — topics  upon  which 
they  will  be  most  at  home,  and  will  be  most  likely  to 
throw  out  thoughts  that  may  be  useful  to  you.  It  has 
often  happened  that  an  individual,  from  one  conversa- 
tion with  an  intelligent  friend,  has  gained  more  light 
on  a  particular  subject,  than  would  have  been  gained 
by  weeks  or  even  months  of  reading  or  reflection. 
And  let  me  say,  there  are  scarcely  any  circumstances 
in  which  you  can  be  placed,  in  which  you  may  not 
render  the  conversation  a  source  of  some  advantage, 
either  to  yourself  or  others.  If  you  are  thrown  among 
the  illiterate  and  vulgar,  you  may,  in  a  single  half 
hour,  do  something  to  enlighten  them  ;  you  may  even 
be  instrumental  in  giving  a  new  direction  to  their 
thoughts,  and  ultimately  of  forming  their  character  in 
a  better  mould :  and  notwithstanding  their  ignorance 
on  most  subjects,  there  may  be  some  on  which  they 
may  be  able  to  instruct  you ;  and  thus,  after  all,  you 
may  be  mutually  benefited  by  your  intercourse.  Not 
a  small  part  of  the  sins  of  almost  every  individual  are 
sins  of  the  tongue.  If  you  keep  in  view  what  ought 
to  be  the  great  end  of  conversation,  it  will  secure  you, 
in  a  good  degree,  against  this  whole  class  of  offences. 
Let  me  caution  you  to  beware  of  talking  too  much. 


CONVERSATION.  101 

If  you  do  not  talk  to  the  purpose,  the  less  you  say  the 
better ;  but  even  if  you  do,  and  if  withal,  you  are 
gifted  with  the  best  powers  of  conversation,  it  will  be 
wise  for  you  to  guard  against  the  imputation  of  ex- 
cessive loquacity.  I  would  not  by  any  means  have 
you  yield  to  a  prudish  reserve  ;  but  I  know  not  whether 
even  that  were  a  more  offensive  extreme  than  to 
monopolize  the  conversation  of  a  whole  circle.  You 
are  to  remember  that  as  the  gift  of  speech  is  common 
to  all,  so  there  are  few  who  are  not  inclined  to  use  it ; 
and  it  is  a  rare  case,  indeed,  that  you  will  meet  an 
individual  who  will  feel  satisfied  to  sit  down  and  hear 
another  talk  continually,  and  have  the  conversation 
addressed  to  himself,  without  bearing  any  part  in  it. 
But  at  any  rate,  you  are  never  to  make  yourself  very 
conspicuous  in  conversation,  without  due  regard  to 
circumstances.  If,  for  instance,  you  are  among  per- 
sons who  are  your  superiors  in  age  or  standing  in 
society,  there  must  be  strong  circumstances  to  justify 
you  in  bearing  more  than  a  moderate  share  in  the  con- 
versation. And  if  you  should  actually  take  the  lead 
in  it,  let  it  appear  manifest  that  it  is  not  because  you 
are  predisposed  to  do  so,  but  because  it  is  the  wish  of 
others  that  you  should.  If  you  talk  out  of  proportion 
to  your  relative  circumstances,  even  though  it  should 
be  to  the  amusement  or  edification  of  those  who  hsten, 
it  is  more  than  probable  that  it  will  be  set  down  to 
the  score  of  vanity.  It  were  far  better  to  leave  a  cir- 
cle wishing,  from  what  you  have  actually  said,  that 


108  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

you  had  said  more,  than  out  of  patience  with  you  for 
having  talked  so  much. 

It  is  only  an  extension  of  the  thought  to  which  I 
have  just  adverted,  when  I  remark  further,  that  you 
should  beware  of  talking  without  reflection,  or  when 
you  have  nothing  to  say.  It  is  far  better  to  be  silent 
than  to  talk  in  this  manner,  or  in  these  circumstances  ; 
for  you  cannot  hope  to  edify  any  one,  and  you  cer- 
tainly expose  yourself.  Let  the  subject  be  what  it 
may,  accustom  yourself  always  to  reflect  before  you 
speak ;  in  other  words,  to  have  thoughts  before  you 
utter  them.  You  cannot  look  around  in  society,  with- 
out perceiving  that  incautious  speaking  is  one  of  the 
most  fruitful  sources  of  mischief.  Whether  you  are 
discussing  a  grave  subject,  or  talking  about  the  most 
familiar  occurrences  of  life,  let  it  be  a  rule  from  which 
you  never  deviate,  to  say  nothing  without  reflection. 
You  may  easily  form  this  habit,  and  the  advantage  of 
it  «will  be  incalculable  ;  or  you  may  perhaps,  with  still 
greater  ease,  form  tlie  opposite  habit,  and  it  will  not 
improbably  subject  you  to  serious  evils  as  long  as  you 
live. 

Take  care  that  you  never  subject  yourself  to  the 
charge  of  egotism.  This  is  apt  to  be  a  consequence  of 
excessive  garrulity  ;  for  there  are  few  persons  who  talk 
a  great  deal,  that  do  not  find  it  convenient  to  magnify 
their  own  importance.  And  let  me  say  that  tliis  is  a 
foible  which  is  more  hkely  to  escape  the  observation 
of  the  person  who  is  subject  to  it,  than  almost  any 


CONVERSATION.  109 

other ;  and  yet  there  is  perhaps  no  other  which  by 
every  one  else  is  more  easily' detected ;  and  I  may  add, 
none  which  excites  more  universal  disgust.  Guard 
your  lips,  then,  whenever  you  find  it  in  your  heart  to 
make  yourself  the  heroine  of  your  own  story. 

Never  say  any  thing  of  yourself  which  even  indi- 
rectly involves  commendation,  unless  under  circum- 
stances of  very  rare  occurrence.  If  you  watch  the 
operations  of  your  heart,  you  will  probably  be  sur- 
prised to  find  how  strong  is  the  propensity  to  bring 
one's  self  into  view,  as  often  and  to  as  great  advantage 
as  possible.  Whenever  you  can  illustrate  any  subject 
on  which  you  may  be  conversing  by  a  reference  to  the 
experience  of  any  one  else,  it  is  better,  in  all  ordinary 
cases,  to  avail  yourself  of  it,  than  to  refer  even  indi- 
rectly to  your  own.  I  have  known  some  persons,  who 
have  manifested  a  strange  kind  of  egotism,  in  speaking 
freely  and  unnecessarily  of  their  own  past  errors, 
when  it  appeared  to  me  that  genuine  humility  would 
have  led  them  to  silent  communion  with  their  hearts, 
and  penitence  before  God.  You  may  rest  assured  that 
it  is  an  exceedingly  difficult  thing  to  allude  much  either 
to  one's  own  faults  or  excellences — difficult,  I  mean, 
without  leaving  an  impression  that  it  is  the  offspring 
of  a  fooHsh  self-complacency  ;  in  other  words,  without 
getting,  and  deservedly  getting  the  character  of  an 
egotist. 

Avoid  even  the  appearance  of  pedantry.  If  you 
are  conversing  with  persons  Df  very  limited  attain- 


110  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

ments,  you  will  make  yourself  far  more  acceptable  as 
well  as  useful  to  them,  by  accommodating  yourself  to 
their  capacities,  than  by  compelling  them  to  listen  to 
what  they  cannot  understand.  I  do  not  say  that  you 
may  not  in  some  instances  make  them  stare  at  your 
supposed  wisdom,  and  perhaps  they  may  even  quote 
you  as  an  oracle  of  learning ;  but  it  is  much  more 
probable  that  even  they  will  smile  at  such  an  exhibi- 
tion as  a  contemptible  weakness.  With  the  intelligent 
and  discerning,  this  effect  certainly  will  be  produced ; 
and  that  whether  your  pretensions  to  learning  are  well 
founded  or  not :  the  simple  fact  that  you  aim  to  ap- 
pear learned,  that  you  deal  much  in  allusions  to  the 
classics  or  the  various  departments  of -science,  with  an 
evident  intention  to  display  your  familiarity  with  them, 
will  be  more  intolerable  than  even  absolute  ignorance. 
If  you  are  really  a  proficient  in  science  or  literature, 
you  need  have  no  apprehensions  that  your  acquisitions 
will  not  be  known  without  your  making  a  formal 
proclamation  of  them.  If  you  are  only  a  superficial 
student,  and  make  pretensions  to  learning  which  your 
acquirements  do  not  justify,  you  will  inevitably  have 
to  encounter  a  mortifying  defeat ;  for  you  may  set  it 
down  that  in  cultivated  society  you  will  pass  for 
nothing  more  than  you  are  really  worth.  My  advice 
to  you  is,  to  acquire  as  much  useful  information  as  you 
can,  and  to  use  it  in  conversation  where  there  is  mani- 
festly  occasion  for  it ;  but  in  no  case  whatever  to 
volunteer  a  learned  remark  where  there  is  no  higher 


CONVERSATION.  Ill 

purpose  to  be  answered  than  mere  personal  display. 
And  never  venture  on  a  subject,  especially  with  an  air 
of  confidence  and  erudition,  upon  which  you  are  con- 
scious your  attainments  are  too  shallow  to  justify  it. 
It  is  an  experiment  always  fraught  with  danger  ;  and 
many  instances  have  I  known  in  which  it  has  resulted 
in  a  humiliating  exposure  both  of  ignorance  and  weak- 
ness. You  are  at  liberty,  indeed,  to  converse  upon 
subjects  on  which  you  are  not  well  informed :  this,  as 
I  have  elsewhere  intimated,  is  one  important  means  of 
increasing  your  information ;  but,  in  every  such  case, 
do  not  attempt  to  get  more  credit  for  intelligence  than 
you  really  deserve :  do  not  assume  the  air  of  a  teacher 
when  you  are  conscious  that  the  attitude  of  a  learner 
belongs  to  you.  In  this  respect,  as  well  as  in  every 
other,  honesty  is  the  safest  and  best  policy. 

Let  me  caution  you  still  further  against  a  habit  of 
light  conversation.  I  have  known  young  females  with 
whom  this  habit  had  become  so  confirmed,  that  it 
seemed  as  if  they  could  scarcely  speak  but  to  trifle ; 
and  who  would  even  choose  to  remain  silent,  rather 
than  join  in  conversation  in  which  their  favorite  passion 
could  not  be  indulged.  You  cannot  contract  such  a 
habit  but  at  the  expense  of  forfeiting  the  esteem  of  the 
wise  and  good,  of  sacrificing  true  dignity  of  character, 
and  throwing  yourself  into  a  current  of  temptation  in 
which  there  is  every  probability  that  you  will  be  irre- 
coverably lost.  Scarcely  any  habit  more  effectually 
than  this  imparts  a  disrelish  for  the  society  of  all  ex- 


112  LETTERS  TO  ADAUaHTER. 

cept  triflers,  and  hardens  the  heart  against  the  influ- 
ences of  rehgion.  I  do  not  wish  ever  to  see  you 
gloomy,  or  austere,  or  spiritless  ;  but  as  you  value  all 
that  is  most  precious  in  time  and  eternity,  I  pray  you 
never  to  give  yourself  up  to  a  habit  of  levity.  Avoid 
even  the  most  distant  approach  to  it ;  for  it  is  the 
nature  of  every  liabit,  and  especially  of  this,  to  make 
an  insidious  beginning,  and  to  grow  strong  by  in- 
dulgence. If  you  are  thrown  into  company  in  which 
it  is  the  fashion  to  trifle,  get  out  of  it  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble ;  and  while  you  are  in  it,  have  decision  enough  to 
let  it  appear  that  you  are  not  in  your  favorite  element ; 
and  if  you  should  even  have  so  much  as  to  express 
your  disapprobation,  and  to  administer  a  gentle  yet 
dignified  reproof,  I  venture  to  say,  that  the  greatest 
trifler  in  the  circle  would  respect  you  the  more  for  it. 
There  is  no  apology  to  be  made  for  such  a  habit  on 
the  ground  of  constitution,  education,  or  any  thing 
else ;  and  if  you  yield  to  it,  I  must  again  remind  you 
that  you  do  it  at  the  expense  of  character,  usefulness, 
happiness,  and  heaven. 

Be  careful  also  how  you  indulge  in  sarcasm.  If 
you  are  constitutionally  inclined  to  this,  you  will  find 
that  there  is  no  point  in  your  character  which  needs 
to  be  more  faithfully  guarded.  There  are  some  few 
cases  in  which  severe  irony  may  be  employed  to  ad- 
vantage— cases  in  which  vice  and  error  will  shrink 
before  it,  when  they  will  unhesitatingly  confront  every 
other  species  of  opposition.     But  it  too  often  happens 


CONVERSATION.  113 

that  those  who  possess  this  talent  use  it  too  indiscrimi- 
nately ;  and  perhaps  even  more  frequently  to  confound 
modest  and  retiring  virtue,  than  to  abash  bold  and 
insolent  vice.  But  be  assured  that  it  is  a  contempti- 
ble triumph  that  is  gained,  when,  by  the  force  of  sar- 
casm, the  lips  of  a  deserving  individual  are  sealed,  and 
the  countenance  crimsoned  with  blushes.  And  there 
are  only  a  few  cases — ^cases  in  which  the  cast  of  charac- 
ter is  peculiar — that  will  warrant  the  use  of  this  weapon 
against  vice  itself.  You  may  take  it  for  granted,  in 
all  ordinary  cases  in  which  a  sarcastic  remark  has  done 
its  office,  that  you  have  excited  feeUngs  of  no  very 
friendly  charactei;  towards  yourself.  You  may  be 
flattered  by  the  compliment  which  you  imagine  those 
around  you  are  paying  to  your  wit,  but  it  were  more 
reasonable  for  you  to  grieve  at  the  reflection  that  you 
have  not  improbably  lost  a  friend. 

In  connection  with  sarcasnj  as  displayed  towards 
those  with  whom  you  converse,  let  me  say  a  word  in 
respect  to  your  treatment  of  absent  characters.  Never 
volunteer  unnecessarily  in  speaking  ill  of  any  body. 
You  may  indeed  be  placed  in  circumstances  in  which 
it  may  be  proper,  and  even  necessary,  that  you  should 
express  an  unfavorable  opinion  of  characters — that 
you  should  state  facts  concerning  them  of  the  most 
disagreeable  nature.  But  what  I  object  to  is,  that 
you  should  do  this  when  circumstances  do  not  require 
it,  and  when  no  good  will  be  likely  to  resuVfc  from  it ; 
for  it  at  once  indicates  a  bad  disposition,  and  is  a 

Irf't.  to  Daugh.  S 


114  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

means  by  which  that  disposition  will  gain  strength. 
But  in  no  case  allow  yourself  to  make  any  unfavorable 
representation  of  a  character,  unless  you  have  ample 
evidence  that  it  is  accordant  with  truth.  By  neglect- 
ing to  observe  this  direction,  you  may  do  an  injury  to 
an  innocent  person,  which,  it  will  afterwards  never  be 
in  your  power  to  retrieve  ;  and  withal,  you  may  acquire 
for  yourself  the  reputation  of  a  slanderer.  There  is 
an  idle  way  of  discussing  characters,  in  which  less  is 
usually  meant  than  meets  the  ear,  and  which  often 
seems  to  be  resorted  to  merely  for  the  sake  of  filling 
up  the  time.  Remember  that  if  you  allow  yourself  to 
join  in  this  kind  of  conversation,  you  always  do  it  at 
the  hazard  of  making  for  yourself  enemies  ;  for  though 
your  remarks  may  be  made  with  perfectly  harmless  ^ 
intentions,  and  may  convey  no  bad  impressions  to  the 
individual  to  whom  they  are  addressed,  yet  when  they 
reach  the  ear  of  the  person  who  is  the  subject  of  them, 
unaccompanied  by  the  manner  in  which  they  were 
uttered,  and  not  improbably  in  an  exaggerated  form, 
they  will  almost  of  course  be  regarded  as  indicating 
diminished  friendship,  if  not  decided  hostihty.  Above 
all,  never  venture  censorious  remarks  upon  characters 
when  you  are  thrown  among  strangers.  Many  in- 
stances have  occurred  in  which  an  individual  who  has 
ventured  upon  this  experiment,  has  afterwards  made 
the  mortifying  discovery  that  the  person  who  was  the 
subject  of  his  remarks  was  listening  to  them  j  or  if  not, 
that  they  were  heard  by  some  near  relative  or  friend. 


CONVERSATION.    '  115 

The  only  prudent  course  in  such  circumstances,  is  to 
say  nothing  which  will  expose  your  own  feelings  or  the 
feelings  of  others  in  view  of  any  disclosure  that  may 
be  made. 

There  is  a  familiar  and  irreverent  use  of  sacred 
things,  against  which  I  wish  especially  to  guard  you. 
For  a  female  to  be  absolutely  profane,  would  b6  to 
render  herself  at  once  an  outlaw  from  decent  society ; 
nevertheless,  I  have  observed  with  pain  that  some 
young  ladies,  who  would  doubtless  shrink  from  the 
charge  of  profaneness,  allow  themselves  in  exclama- 
tions, and  in  irreverent  and  ludicrous  applications  of 
Scripture,  which  border  very  closely  upon  it.  Beware 
how  you  eyen  approach  this  dangerous  ground.  Such 
exclamations  as  those  to  which  I  have  referred,  in 
which  either  the  awful  name  of  the  Supreme  Being  or 
some  one  of  his  attributes  is  lightly  introduced,  are 
fitted  to  destroy  your  reverence  for  every  thmg  sacred, 
and  to  cherish  within  you  a  spirit  of  absolute  impiety. 
Never  suffer  any  thing  of  a  sacred  nature  to  be  on 
your  lips,  without  a  corresponding  sentiment  of  rever- 
ence in  your  heart.  And  if  those  with  whom  you  are 
accustomed  to  associate  indulge  themselves  in  this  in- 
considerate habit  of  which  I  have  spoken,  think  it  a 
sufficient  reason  for  declining  their  society ;  for  certain 
it  is,  that  you  can  gain  nothing  from  it  to  compensate 
the  loss  which  you  vfould  be  liable  to  sustain  of  your 
reverence  for  the  character  or  word  of  God. 

I  will  only  detain  you  further  by  suggesting  a 


116  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

caution  to  cherish  a  most  sact-ed  regard  to  truth.  It 
would  give  me  great  pain  to  suppose  for  a  moment 
that,  at  the  age  to  which  you  have  now  arrived,  you 
should  ever  be  guilty  of  deliberate  falsehood ;  but  I 
wish  to  put  you  on  your  guard  against  every  thing 
that  has  even  the  semblance  of  a  disregard  to  strict 
veracity.  There  is  a  habit  which  many  persons  have 
of  dealing  artfully  and  evasively ;  saving  their  con- 
sciences by  some  expression  which  may  admit,  of 
double  construction,  but  which  nevertheless  in  its  ob- 
vious construction  is  contrary  to  truth.  There  are 
others  who  have  a  habit  of  talking  extravagantly  on 
every  subject ;  with  whom  the  simple-  verity  is  too 
dry  to  be  relished ;  who  suffer  their  imaginations  to 
supply  the  defects  of  their  memories ;  who,  in  short, 
never  seem  to  breathe  freely  but  in  the  region  of  em- 
belUshment  iand  exaggeration.  And  I  am  constrained 
to  say  that  much  of  the  civility  of  fashionable  life 
savors  strongly  of  deception.  I  refer  here  not  only  to 
the  habit  which  some  ladies  have  of  sending  word  to 
visitors  that  they  are  not  at  home,  when  they  are  only 
engaged,  but  to  the  painful  regrets  that  are  often  ex- 
pressed at  the  distance  between  calls — at  the  unspeak- 
able joy  which  is  manifested  on  meeting  a  fashionable 
acquaintance — at  the  earnest  importunity  that  is  ex- 
hibited for  an  early  visit,  when  the  truth  is  in  each 
case  that  the  real  feeling  is  that  of  absolute  indiffer- 
ence. Now  I  beg  you  will  guard  against  duplicity  in 
all  its  forms.     Rely  on  it,  it  is  not  necessary  to  true 


CONVERSATION.  117 

politeness;  and  if  it  were,  you  ought  not,  as  an  ac- 
countable and  immortal  creature,  even  to  agitate  the 
question  whether  you  shall  yield  to  it.  There  are 
cases,  I  know,  in  which  the  temptation  to  equivocate 
is  powerful,  in  which  to  speak  the  honest  truth  must 
involve  severe  personal  sacrifices;  but  in  all  cases' of 
this  kind  the  only  proper  alternative  is,  either  to  speak 
out  your  real  sentiments,  or  to  say  nothing ;  and  you  are 
not  even  at  liberty  to  remain  silent,  when  silence  will 
convey  a  wrong  impression,  and  of  course  is  virtual 
falsehood.  You  will  gain  nothing  if  you  allow  your- 
self in  a  habit  of  exaggeration  ;  for  this  feature  in  your 
character  will  soon  be  understood,  and  your  state- 
ments will  all  be  received  with  a  corresponding  abate- 
ment. In  a  word,  let  it  be  a  principle  with  you  never 
to  be  violated,  that  in  whatever  circumstances  you  are 
placed,  all  that  you  say  shall  be  characterized  by  the 
simplicity  of  truth.  Mrs.  Opie's  "Illustrations  of  Ly- 
in^"  is  a  work  adapted  to  lead  you  to  an  intimate 
knowledge  of  the  windings  of  your  own  heart,  or  to  put 
you  on  your  guard  against  the  beginning  of  this  evil. 
Your 

FATHER. 


118  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 


^V£f 


LETTER  X. 

AMUSEMENTS. 

My  dear  Child — There  is  scarcely  any  subject  on 
which  it  is  more  important  that  you  should  form  cor- 
rect notions,  and  in  relation  to  which  a  mistaken  view 
is  of  more  practical  and  dangerous  tendency,  than  that 
of  amusements.  Many  a  young  female,  who  might 
have  been  an  ornament  to  her  sex,  and  a  blessing  to 
the  world,  has,  by  yielding  to  the  dictates  of  a  way- 
ward inclination,  and  setting  aside  the  decisions  of 
sober  reason  on  this  subject,  not  only  rendered  herself 
of  no  account  in  society,  but  clouded  all  her  prospec,ts 
both  for  this  world  and  another.  In  contemplating 
this  subject,  I  wish  you  to  feel  that  you  are  standing 
by  the  grave  of  female  character  and  hopes,  and  to 
heed  the  monitory  voice  that  issues  from  it,  charging 
you  to  beware  how  you  tread  in  the  footsteps  of  the 
fallen  and  ruined. 

The  grand  reason  why  so  many  females  have  fallen 
victims  to  the  love  of  amusement  is,  that  they  have 
judged  erroneously  of  the  end  which  it  is  designed  to 
answer.     They  have  taken  up  the  opinion,  and  it  must 


AMUSEMENTS.  119 

be  acknowledged  that  it  has  too  often  received  the 
sanction  even  of  parents,  that  a  portion  especially  of 
early  life  was  designed  to  be  frittered  away  in  idle  and 
foolish  indulgences ;  that  they  are  at  liberty  during 
this  period  to  regard  the  gratification  of  the  senses  as 
an  ultimate  object,  and  to  think  of  nothing  in  connec- 
tion with  amusement  beyond  the  mere  momentary 
enjoyment  with  which  it  is  connected.  With  this  im- 
pression they  have  asked  no  question  with  so  much 
interest  as  how  they  may  most  effectually  bo  amused  ; 
and  this  passion  has  increased  by  indulgence,  until 
they  have  acquired  an  utter  disreUsh  for  the  sober 
concerns  of  life.  Who  would  suppose  that  beings 
could  be  employed  in  these  idle  pursuits,  who  are 
destined  to  an  immortal  existence,  who  are  accounta- 
ble for  the  improvement  of  all  their  time,  and  are  liable 
every  hour  to  enter  on  an  exact  and  eternal  retribution  ? 
The  only  rational  view  of  this  subject  is  that  which 
takes  for  granted  our  obligation  to  use  all  our  faculties 
at  all  times  to  the  best  purpose.  This  is  a  first  princi- 
ple not  only  of  Scripture,  but  of  reason ;  and  it  were 
impossible  to  prove  that  we  are  exempt  from  this  obli- 
gation a  single  moment,  by  any  argument  which  would 
not  at  the  same  time  prove  that  we  are  always  exempt 
from  it — 'in  other  words,  which  would  not  disprove 
human  accountableness  and  sweep  away  the  pillars  of 
God's  moral  government.  It  is  a  command,  dictated 
by  God's  own  Spirit,  that  whatever  we  do  we  should 
do  all  to  his  glory  ;  and  if  there  had  been  any  depart- 


120  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

ment  of  human  action  to  which  this  command  was  not 
designed  to  extend,  it  were  impossible  but  that  the 
exception  should  have  been  made.  The  legitimate 
end  of  amusement  therefore  is  not  answered  in  mere 
personal  gratification,  but  in  refreshing  and  invigorating 
the  powers  for  the  more  successful  discharge  of  duty. 
The  constitution  of  the  human  mind  is  such,  that  it- 
will  not  bear  to  be  intensely  employed  on  the  same 
object  for  a  long  time  without  interruption :  the  effect 
of  an  attempt  to  keep  it  thus  employed  would  be,  that 
far  less  would  be  accomplished  than  might  be  with 
occasional  relaxation  ;  and  withal,  the  energies  of  the 
mind,  instead  of  being  quickened  and  improved,  would 
gradually  be  diminished.  Hence  some  amusement  be- 
comes necessary,  in  order  to  secure  the  greatest  use- 
fulness. 

In  this  view,  you  will  perceive  not  only  that  amuse- 
ment is  designed  to  prepare  you  for  the  discharge  of 
duty,  that  is,  for  an  attention  to  the  graver  concerns 
of  life,  but  that  it  is  itself  an  important  part  of  duty, 
and  hke  every  thing  else  in  which  you  engage,  ought 
to  be  subject  to  the  direction  of  conscience.  You. have 
no  more  right  to  forget  your  accountableness  or  to  re- 
fuse to  acknowledge  God  in  selecting  your  amusements, 
or  in  yielding  yourself  to  them,  than  you  have  when 
you  enter  the  closet  or  sanctuary  to  engage  in  private 
or  public  worship. 

You  will  perceive,  moreover,  if  the  preceding  re- 
marks are  correct,  that  the  whole  purpose  of  amuse- 


AMUSEMENTS.  121 

ment  may  be  answered  by  mere  change  of  employment. 
It  is  by  no  means  necessary,  as  the  popular  notion  is, 
that  the  change  should  be  from  an  employment  that 
is  useful  to  one  that  is  useless  or  e^en  worse ;  but  the 
object  may  be  even  better  accomplished  by  a  change 
that  shall  keep  the  mind  still  employed  to  advantage. 
If  your  ordinary  employment  is  one  that  lays  your 
faculties  under  severe  contribution,  that  to  which  you 
resort  for  amusement  ought  undoubtedly  to  require 
but  moderate  mental  exercise ;  and  in  cases  of  great 
exhaustion  from  intellectual  effort,  it  may  be  proper 
to  give  the  mind  for  a  season  an  entire  dispensation 
from  the  labor  of  connected  thought.  But  in  all 
ordinary  cases,  you  will  find  that  in  unbending  from 
severe  exertion  of  mind,  with  reference  to  renewing 
that  exertion  with  greater  success,  you  need  not  yield 
to  positive  inaction,  or  occupy  yourself  with  any  thing 
that  is  trifling,  but  may  still  be  doing  something  for 
the  benefit  of  yourself  or  your  fellow-creatures.  If 
you  regulate  your  amusements  by  a  regard  to  this 
principle,  you  will  find  it  a  most  effectual  means  of 
redeeming  time,  and  will  have  the  pleasure  to  reflect 
that  even  your  hours  of  relaxation  are  hours  of  useful- 
ness. 

There  are  several  tests  by  which  you  may  judge 
whether  any  particular  amusement  is  innocent ;  of 
course,  whether  it  is  safe  and  right  for  you  to  indulge 
in  it.  Inquire,  for  instance,  whether,  before  engaging 
in  it,  you  dare  enter  your  closet  and  ask  God  to  ac- 


122  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

company  it  with  his  blessing.  Do  not  think  this  a 
superstitions  suggestion.  Rely  on  it,  it  is  fully  accord- 
ant with  enlightened  reason  and  conscience.  We 
have  no  right  to  use  our  faculties  in  any  way  which 
our  Maker  and  Judge  does  not  approve ;  and  if  we 
are  conscious  of  using  them  aright,  we  shall  at  once 
feel  our  need  of  his  blessing,  and  be  encouraged  to 
supplicate  it.  I  am  well  aware  that  it  is  a  thought 
which  has  never  entered  the  mind  of  most  young  per- 
sons, that  God  should  be  acknowledged  in  their  amuse- 
ments ;  and  if  they  have  ever  thought  of  attempting 
to  approach  this  awful  and  glorious  Being,  this  has 
been  a  subject  on  which  conscience  has  dictated  peti- 
tions for  forgiveness,  though  the  idea  of  supplicating 
a  blessing  would  seem  to  them  little  short  of  impiety. 
The  reason  obviously  is,  that  the  amusements  in  which 
they  indulge  are  felt  to  be  wrong:  they  are  not  such 
as  will  abide  the  scrutiny  of  an  enlightened  conscience, 
much  less  the  scrutiny  of  a  holy  God.  If  you  dare  not 
enter  your  closet  and  ask  God  to  bless  you  in  any 
amusement  in  which  you  are  about  to  engage,  you  may 
safely  take  that  as  a  testimony  of  conscience  against 
it;  and  if  you  do  not  retreat,  you  may  make  up  your 
mind  to  encounter  the  lashes  of  conscience  hereafter,  as 
part  of  your  retribution  for  disobeying  her  suggestions. 
Equally  certain  is  it  that  it  cannot  be  right  to  en- 
gage in  any  amusement  which  is  fitted  to  give  you  a 
disrelish  for  serious  reflection.  All  who  acknowledge 
the  truth  of  the  Bible,  indeed  all  but  the  downright 


^I^K  AMUSEMENTS.  123 

atheist,  are  compelled  to  admit  that  the  circumstances 
of  our  present  existence  are  deeply  solemn  ;  and  that 
he  who  shuts  his  eyes  against  them  is  chargeable  with 
gross  infatuation.  We  are  here  passing  the  only 
period  of  our  probation  for  eternity.  The  glories  of 
immortal  life  are  brought  within  our  reach,  and  are 
suspended  on  our  acceptance  of  the  terms  of  the  gos- 
pel ;  and  the  very  first  step  towards  the  acceptance 
of  these  terms,  is  serious  consideration.  Is  it  not 
manifest  then,  that  any  thing  which  excites  a  disrelish 
for  reflection,  and  of  course  puts  at  hazard  the  souFs 
everlasting  interests,  must  be  wrong  ?  If  you  find 
that  such  has  been  the  effect  of  any  amusem-ent  in 
which  you  have  indulged,  let  it  be  a  reason  why  you 
should  instantly  abandon  it :  or  if  you  are  convinced 
that  such  would  be  the  effect  of  any  to  which  you  are 
solicited  or  inclined,  let  it  be  a  reason  why  you  stand 
aloof  from  it,  and  maintain  your  ground  with  unyield- 
ing firmness. 

It  were  preposterous,  moreover,  to  practise  any 
amusement  which  you  cannot  think  of  without  pain 
or  remorse,  in  connection  with  the  prospect  of  dying. 
That  death  is  the  certain  lot  of  all,  and  of  yourself  in 
common  with  others,  is  a  fact  just  as  well  established 
as  the  fact  of  your  existence.  That  death  itself  is  a 
most  serious  event,  and  that  the  consequences  con- 
nected with  it  are  momentous  beyond  our  conceptions, 
is  no  matter  of  question  with  any  believer  in  divine 
revelation.     Equally  certain  is  it,  that  the  hour  of  our 


124  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaiiTER. 

departure  from  this  world  may  be  rendered  the  peace- 
ful dawn  of  an  eternal  day,  or  it  may  be  an  hour  of 
darkness  and  agitation  and  horror  which  the  boldest 
imagination  cannot  describe.  Now  I  ask  again,  is  it 
not  more  than  madness  to  engage  in  any  amusement 
which  conscience  tells  you  will  not  bear  to  be  reviewed 
when  the  current  of  life  is  ebbing  away ;  nay,  which 
must  inevitably  plant  a  thorn  in  your  dying  pillow? 
Surely  no  person  who  acts  under  the  influence  of 
reason  can  object  to  this,  as  a  perfectly  fair  test  by 
which  to  decide  upon  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  any 
amusement ;  for  no  one  can  deny,  that  it  is  the  dictate 
of  true  wisdom  that  we  should  consider  and  prepare 
for  our  latter  end.  Here  then  I  pray  you  to  take 
counsel  of  reason,  and  not  suffer  yourself  to  be  deluded 
by  mere  feeling ;  and  if  you  are  tempted  to  amuse 
yourself  in  any  way  which  you  really  believe  will  cast 
an  additional  shade  upon  the  dark  valley,  or  the  ten- 
dency of  which  is  to  make  you  wish  that  death  were 
more  distant,  resist  the  temptation,  let  it  be  at  what- 
ever expense  it  may.  There  is  no  worldly  gratifica- 
tion w^ich  it  were  not  wise  to  forego,  if  it  be  a  seed 
which  will  yield  a  harvest  of  wretchedness  in  your  last 
houi\ 

Let  me  add,  that  you  cannot  imiocently  mdulge  in 
any  amusement  which  will  not  fit  you  for  the  better 
discharge  of  the  ordinary  duties  of  life.  If  this  be  not 
the  efect,  the  time  which  is  thus  occupied  is  worse 
than  lost ;  for  not  only  is  there  no  good  accomplished, 


AMUSEMENTS.  125 

but  the  faculties,  by  this  means,  acquire,  or  are  con- 
firmed in  a  wrong  direction.  And  thus  habits  are 
often  formed,  both  intellectual  and  moral,  which  are 
alike  inconsistent  with  dignity,  happiness,  and  useful- 
ness. But  surely  I  need  not  again  remind  you  that, 
in  respect  to  the  improvement  of  your  time,  and  the 
use  of  your  faculties,  you  are  a  steward  of  God  ;  and 
that  you  cannot  be  indifferent  concerning  either,  but 
at  the  expense  of  proving  yourself  unfaithful,  and  of 
incurring  the  Master's  displeasure.  Is  it  not  lamenta- 
bly true,  that  a  large  part  of  the  amusements  that 
prevail  in  the  world,  instead  of  invigorating  the  facul- 
ties for  the  more  faithful  discharge  of  duty,  actually 
unfit  the  mind  for  useful  exertion  on  the  one  hand,  and 
create  a  Sisrelish  for  it  on  the  other  ?  I  need  not  re- 
peat the  caution  that  you  will  have  no  communion 
with  any  of  these  scenes  of  unprofitable  indulgence. 

That  you  may  not  misapprehend  my  meaning,  I  will 
descend  a  little  to  particulars,  and  give  you  my  opin- 
ion, in  a  few  words,  of  some  of  the  fashionable  amuse- 
ments of  the  day. 

I  will  begin  with  parties  of  pleasure.  You  already 
know  that  I  am  in  favor  of  your  cultivating  the  social 
affections.  Instead  of  objecting  to  your  meeting  oc- 
casionally a  circle  of  friends,  for  an  agreeable  inter- 
change of  kind  sentiments,  and  for  purposes  of  intel- 
lectual and  moral  improvement,  I  would  encourage 
such  meetings  with  all  my  heart ;  and  if  you  choose  to 
call  them  parties  of  pleasure,  you  have  my  consent  for 


126  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

doing  so.  But  those  scenes  which  usually  pass  in  the 
world  under  this  name — scenes  of  mere  conviviality 
and  trifling — in  which  there  is  nothing  to  enlighten 
the  mind,  or  to  refine  or  elevate  the  affections,  I  am 
constrained  to  regard  as  utterly  unworthy  a  rational 
and  accountable  being.  It  is  not  the  fact  that  the 
occasions  to  which  I  refer  usually  collect  a  large  num- 
ber, that  constitutes  the  ground  of  my  objection  to 
them ;  for  a  large  number  may  as  well  be  occupied  in 
a  profitable  manner  as  a  small  one  ;  but  it  is  the  fact 
that  the  very  purpose  for  which  they  come  together 
is  to  fritter  away  time  in  idle  and  foohsh  conversation. 
It  is  this  circumstance  which  gives  to  the  parties  to 
which  I  refer  their  distinctive  character ;  and  whether 
they  consist  of  many  or  few,  their  tendency  is  perhaps 
equally  pernicious.  They  not  only  answer  no  good 
purpose,  but  serve  to  dissipate  the  mind,  and  throw 
open  the  doors  of  the  heart  to  every  temptation. 

Another  amusement  which  has  been  very  common, 
and  which  still  prevails  to  a  considerable  extent,  is 
dancing.  To  this,  considered  as  a  mere  exercise,  no 
objection  certainly  can  be  made  ;  and  if  it  were  culti- 
vated with  exclusive  reference  to  this,  nothing  worse 
could  be  said  of  learning  to  dance,  than  that  it  is  not 
the' most  profitable  way  of  spending  time.  And  I  will 
•  go  further  and  add,  that  if  a  few  girls  were  disposed 
to  stand  up  together  for  a  half  hour,  and  dance  for 
recreation,  I  cannot  conceive  that  there  could  be  any 
immorality  in  it.     But  all  this,  you  are  perfectly  aware, 


AMUSEMENTS.  121 

is  very  remote  from  the  amusement  as  it  actually  ex- 
ists. Every  one  knows  that  it  brings  the  sexes  together 
in  circumstances,  to  say  the  least,  not  the  most  favor- 
able to  the  cultivation  of  female  delicacy ;  that  the 
mind  is  usually  engrossed  for  a  considerable  time,  in 
preparation  for  it  j  that,  for  the  most  part,  it  occupies 
hours  which  the  Creator  designed  should  be  given  to 
repose  •  that  it  is  fitted  to  cherish  a  spirit  of  vanity, 
and  work  up  the  mind  to  a  feverish  and  useless  excite- 
ment ;  and  that  it  is  followed  by  a  state,  both  of  mind 
and  body,  which,  for  a  time  at  least,  forbids  any  thing 
like  useful  exertion.  I  am  confident  that  I  might  ap- 
peal to  any  young  female  who  is  accustomed  to  dance 
in  balls  and  assemblies,  and  if  she  were  honest,  she 
would  confirm,  from  her  own  experience,  .all  that  I 
have  said.  I  have  been  struck  with  the  fact  that  in 
every  instance  in  which  I  have  ever  heard  a  young 
female,  under  serious  impressions,  speak  of  that  part 
of  her  life  which  she  has  devoted  to  this  amusement, 
she  has  said,  unhesitatingly,  that,  more  than  any  thing 
else,  it  served  to  confirm  her  in  a  habit  of  carelessness, 
and  to  give  her  an  aversion  to  the  concerns  of  religion. 
Sach  testimony  rendered  in  such  circumstances,  ought 
surely  to  be  regarded  as  decisive. 

The  only  other  amusement  in  relation  to  which  I 
shall  at  present  offer  an  opinion,  is  the  theatre.  The 
great  argument  which  is  urged  in  favor  of  this  is,  that 
it  is  a  school  in  which  you  may  study  to  advantage 
the  human  character ;  inasmuch  as  the  various  opera- 


128  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

tions  of  the  heart,  under  different  circumstances,  are 
here  successfully  exhibited.  This  argument  is  worth 
nothing ;  for  it  were  better  to  study  human  nature,  as 
it  is  acted  out  in  the  every-day  realities  of  life  around 
us,  than  as  it  appears  in  the  high-wrought  and  over- 
strained representations  of  the  stage  ;  just  as  it  would 
be  desirable  to  contemplate  any  object  of  interest, ' 
rather  than  a  picture  of  it,  even  though  it  might  be 
drawn  by  the  most  skilful  artist.  And  as  for  the  ob- 
jections to  this  amusement,  they  are  so  obvious  that  I 
scarcely  need  allude  to  them.  The  vulgarity,  the 
licentiousness,  the  impiety  connected  with  it,  are  pro- 
verbial ;  and  if  the  fact  did  not  stare  us  in  the  face, 
we  should  say  that  it  was  impossible  that  ladies  pro- 
fessing the  utmost  delicacy,  and  who,  in  private,  would 
be  offended  by  an  indecent  allusion,  will  nevertheless 
deliberately  and  habitually  expose  themselves  to  all 
the  profaneness  and  ribaldry  of  the  stage.  ^  And  what 
renders  this  still  more  surprising  is,  that  in  being  pres- 
ent on  these  occasions,  they  consent  to  mingle  with  the 
most  profligate  part  of  the  community' — with  persons 
who  are  at  home  only  in  the  atmosphere  of  moral  cor- 
ruption, and  whom  common  decency  cannot  behold 
without  a  blush.  I  say  this  is  a  fact  in  the  history  of 
your  sex,  for  which  I  own  myself  utterly  unable  to  ac- 
cofunt ;  but  I  earnestly  hope  that  I  may  never  be  com- 
pelled to  contemplate  an  example  of  It  in  my  own 
child.  Should  this  be  the  case,  I  should  consider  my 
fond  hopes  in  respect  to  you  as  blasted,  and  should 


AMUSEMENTS.  129 

shed  tears  of  deeper  anguish  than  if  1  had  consigned 
you  to  an  early  grave. 

If  the  thought  should  occur  to  you  that  I  am 
abridging  your  liberty  too  far,  by  depriving  you  of 
amusements  which  are  regarded  by  naany  as  innocent, 
let  me  entreat  you,  before  you  indulge  such  a  reflection, 
to  pause  and  refer  the  several  species  of  amusement  of 
which  I  have  spoken,  to  the  tests  which  I  am  sure 
your  reason  and  conscience  have  already  approved. 
Upon  which  of  them,  let  me  ask,  could  you,  in  your 
closet,  and  upon  your  knees,  humbly  invoke  the  bless- 
ing of  God  ?  Which  of  them  could  you  indulge,  and 
not  feel  an  increased  aversion  to  the  serious  concerns 
of  religion ;  especially  to  the  duty  of  self-examination, 
and  communion  with  God?  In  which  of  them  should 
you  be  willing  to  engage,  if  you  were  to  be  assured  by 
a  messenger  from  the  invisible  world,  that  you  were 
spending  the  last  month  or  the  last  week  of  your  pro- 
bation. In  relation  to  which  of  them  can  you  say,  in 
the  presence  of  the  Searcher  of  hearts,  that  it  would 
serve  to  prepare  you  the  better  for  the  various  personal 
and  relative  duties  of  life  ?  I  am  sure  that  I  need  only  pro- 
pose these  interrogatories  to  your  conscience,  to  satisfy 
you  that  there  is  no  superstition  in  the  advice  which  I 
have  given  you  in  respect  to  these  several  amusements. 

But  I  know  you  will  ask,  if  the  fashionable  amuse- 
ments of  the  day  are  proscribed,  what-  are  those  in 
which  you  may  safely  and  innocently  indulge.  I 
answer  in  general  by  repeating  what  I  have  already 

Let.  to  Daash.  9 


130  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

said,  that  there  is  scarcely  any  employment,  different 
from  your  ordinary  one,  which  requires  comparatively 
little  mental  effort,  in  which  you  may  not  find  legiti- 
mate recreation.  You  may  amuse  yourself  by  various 
kinds  of  reading,  w^hich  at  the  same  time  will  exert  a 
favorable  influence  on  your  understanding  and  heart 
You  may  amuse  yourself  by  the  study  of  natural  sci- 
ence ;  especially  by  arranging  the  flowers  of  the  field, 
and  calling  them  by  their  names  ;  or  by  carrying  your 
curious  researches  into  the  mineral  kingdom,  and  decy- 
phering  the  evidences  of  the  Creator's  handiwork  in 
the  mountain  rock,  and  the  insignificant  pebble,  and 
every  degree  of  mineral  existence  between  them.  You 
may  amuse  yourself  by  cheerful  and  yet  useful  con- 
versation with  some  entertaining  friend,  or  even  by 
walkhig  abroad  iu  solitude,  and  breathing  the  fresh 
air,  and  looking  at  the  moon  and  the  stars  as  they 
shine  forth  in  silent  grandeur  on  the  face  of  the  sky, 
or  in  contemplating  the  bright  verdure  that  covers  the 
earth  in  spring,  or  in  listening  to  the  sound  of  a  distant 
brook,  as  it  rushes  down  a  steep  mountain  and  buries 
itself  in  a  deep  forest.  The  contemplation  of  these 
various  objects,  and  of  all  the  variegated  scenery  ol 
nature,  opens  a  most  legitimate  field  for  amusement, 
while  it  is  fitted  also  to  enlarge  our  conceptions  of  the 
Creator^s  works,  and  to  foster  a  spirit  of  elevated 
devotion  and  rational  piety. 

I  am  your  affectionate 

FATHER. 


INTERCOURSE  WITH  THE  WORLD.      131 


LETTER   XI. 

INTERCOURSE  WITH  THE  WORLD. 

My  dear  Child — In  seyeral  of  the  preceding  letters 
I  have  taken  for  granted  that  you  are  to  mingle,  in  a 
greater  or  less  degree,  in  society.  It  is  equally  essen- 
tial to  your  respectability  and  usefulness,  that  you 
should  not  live  the  life  of  a  recluse.  The  constitution 
of  your  nature,  and  the  circumstances  of  your  condition 
clearly  indicate  that  you  were  made  to  be  social.  As 
it  is  a  subject,  however,  in  relation  to  which  there  is 
a  strong  tendency  to  extremes,  and  on  which  you  will 
be  in  great  danger  of  being  misled,  I  shall  suggest  a 
few  thoughts  in  the  present  letter,  which  may  serve  to 
aid  in  forming  your  opinions  and  directing  your  conduct. 

I  begin  my  advice  to  you  on  this  subject  by  a 
caution  that  you  should  not  make  your  entrance  into 
society  at  too  early  a  period.  It  too  often  happens 
that  girls,  long  before  they  have  completed  their  edu- 
cation, and  even  at  a  comparatively  early  stage  of  it, 
have  contracted  a  strong  relish  for  being  in  the  world  ; 
and  unless  prevented  by  the  influence  of  parents  or 
instructors,  they  are  found  thus  prematurely  in  the 
gayest  circles  of  fashion.     The  consequence  of  this  is. 


132  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 

that  at  best  a  divided  attention  is  rendered  to  their 
studies ;  that  their  opportunities  for  intellectual  im- 
provement are  enjoyed  to  little  purpose  ;  and  that  the 
period  in  which  should  be  laid  the  foundation  of  a  solid 
and  useful  character,  is  perverted  to  the  formation  of 
a  habit  of  mental  inaction,  and  not  improbably  to 
cherish  a  spirit  of  intolerable  vanity. 

Now  I  do  not  insist  that  you  should  actually  decline 
all  society  up  to  the  time  of  completing  your  educa- 
tion ;  but  I  wish  that  your  visiting,  previous  to  that 
period,  should  be,  for  the  most  part,  of  an  mformal 
character ;  and  that  you  should  not  generally  consider 
yourself  at  liberty  to  accept  invitations,  even  if  you 
should  deceive  them,  to  mingle  in  set  circles.  This 
accidental  intercourse  of  which  I  have  spoken,  is  all 
that  will  be  necessary  during  the  period  of  your  edu- 
cation, to  aid  you  in  the  formation  of  your  manners  ; 
and  any  thing  beyond  it  will  almost  inevitably  inter- 
fere with  your  intellectual  improvement,  and  of  course 
detract  from  your  ultimate  standing  in  society. 

Let  me  assure  you  too,  that  you  will  be  far  less  ac- 
ceptable in  society,  if  you  make  your  appearance  pre- 
maturely, than  if  you  wait  till  a  proper  period.  The 
common-sense  of  the  world  is  quick  to  discern  any 
impropriety  on  this  subject ;  and  if  while  you  are  yet 
a  child,  you  are  seen  among  those  of  mature  age,  vir- 
tually claiming  to  be  as  old  as  they,  you  can  expect 
nothing  else  but  that  you  will  be  set  down  as  deficient 
either  in  modesty  or  good  sense.     Better  for  your 


INTERCOURSE  WITH  THE  WORLD.      133 

reputation  that' you  should  come  too  late  into  society 
than  too  early ;  for  though  in  the  one  case  you  might 
lose  something  in  point  of  manners,  yet  in  the  other 
you  would  lose  more,  in  the  estimation  of  the  world, 
on  the  score  of  delicacy  and  correct  judgment. 

It  is  not  more  important  that  you  should  avoid 
going  into  society  too  early,  than  it  is,  that  when  you 
do  enter  it,  you  should  avoid  mingling  in  it  too  much. 
One  bad  effect  of  this  would  be,  that  it  would  leave 
you  with  too  little  time  for  the  discharge  of  your 
private  and  domestic  duties.  The  culture  of  your 
mmd  and  heart,  in  connection  with  the  ordinary  cares 
of  domestic  life,  requires  that  a  large  part  of  your  time 
should  be  spent  at  home ;  and  you  cannot,  without 
great  injustice  to  yourself,  and  those  with  whom  you 
are  connected,  neglect  these  more  private  duties,  for 
the  sake  of  being  always  in  the  bustle  of  the  world. 
It  is  a  rare  thing  that  you  will  find  a  lady  who  devotes 
an  undue  proportion  of  her  time  to  visiting,  but  if  you 
follow  her  into  the  domestic  circle,  to  the  chamber  and 
the  fireside,  you  will  find  that  she  evinces  a  propor- 
tional neglect  of  some  of  the  duties  belonging  to  the 
station  she  occupies.  She  is  either  neglecting  to  cul- 
tivate her  understanding,  or  neglecting  to  keep  her 
heart,  or  neglecting  to  use  the  means  which  Providence 
has  put  into  her  hands  for  the  intellectual  and  moral 
improvement  of  those  with  whom  she  is  immediately 
connected. 

Recollect  also,  that  the  error  against  which  I  am 


134  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER.       - 

endeavoring  to  put  you  on  your  guard',  would  not  only 
prevent  your  attention  to  more  important  duties,  by 
occupying  the  time  which  should  be  allotted  to  them, 
but  it  would  serve  actually  to  give  you  a  distaste  for 
those  duties.  Allow  yourself  in  a  constant  round  of 
company,  even  for  a  short  period,  and  it  will  be  strange 
indeed,  if  you  do  not  begin  to  feel  that  company  is 
your  only  element — if  you  do  not,  in  a  great  degree, 
lose  your  relish  for  the  pleasures  of  the  domestic  fire- 
side— if  you  do  not  find  yourself  complaining  of  ennui, 
when  you  happen  for  a  season  to  be  providentially 
shut  up  at  home.  I  need  not  stop  to  show  how  en- 
tirely such  a  habit  of  feeling  must  disqualify  a  female 
for  the  most  important  relations  she  can  ever  sustain. 
Moreover,  an  extravagant  fondness  for  society,  and 
an  excessive  indulgence  of  this  inclination,  are  almost 
sure  to  create  a  habit  of  dissipation,  both  as  it  respects 
the  intellect  and  the  feelings.  The  mind,  by  being 
constantly  conversant  with  the  ever  varying  scenes  of 
social  life,  loses,  in  a  great  degree,  the  command  of  its 
own  powers  ;  and  the  attempt  to  concentrate  them  on 
any  particular  subject  were  scarcely  more  likely  to 
succeed,  than  would  be  an  attempt  to  collect  every 
mote  that  was  floating  in  the  surrounding  atmosphere, 
while  the  atmosphere  was  agitated  by  a  whirlwind. 
The  moral  feelings  too  are  subject  to  a  similar  influ- 
ence ;  for  not  only  is  there  usually  an  entire  absence 
of  self-communion,  and  all  that  secret  discipline  of  the 
affections,  which  is  essential  to  the  right  keeping  of 


INTERCOURSE  WITH  THE  WORLD.       135 

the  heart,  but  too  often  there  are  the  levities  of  the 
world,  scenes  from  which  there  is  a  studied  exclusion 
of  religion,  and  even  a  designed  introduction  of  much 
that  is  fitted  to  bring  religion  into  contempt.  I  do 
not  say  that  this  evil,  in  its  whole  extent,  is  commonly 
found  in  any  of  the  walks  of  decent  society  ;  but  I  do 
say  that  it  sometimes  exists  in  the  frightful  dimensions 
which  I  have  attributed  to  it ;  and  that  it  commonly 
exists  in  so  great  a  degree  as  to  render  an  excessive 
intercourse  with  the  world  a  fruitful  source  of  mischief. 
You  will  anticipate  me  when  I  say,  in  this  connec- 
tion, that  it  becomes  you  to  use  the  utmost  caution  in 
selecting  the  circle  with  which  you  are  to  associate. 
I  hardly  need  admonish  you  to  set  it  down  as  a  fixed 
purpose,  that  you  will  never  intentionally  be  found  in 
any  circle  in  which  there  is  any  thing  to  encom'age 
immorality,  or  any  lack  of  reverence  for  the  sacred 
principles  and  precepts  of  religion.  I  would  have  you, 
moreover,  beware  of  mingling  in  the  gay  world — ^in 
scenes  which  are  designed  to  produce  an  unnatural  and 
feverish  excitement  of  the  spirits,  which  are  fraught 
with  no  intellectual  or  moral  advantage,  and  in  which 
the  introduction  of  grave  or  useful  discourse  would  be 
the  signal  for  disquietude  or  disgust.  I  do  not,  by  any 
means,  insist  that  your  associates  should  all  be  from 
the  number  of  those  who  are  professedly  or  actually 
pious ;  nor  do  I  object  at  all  to  your  intercourse  with 
them  being  of  a  cheerful,  and  sometimes,  if  you  please,  . 
an  amusmg  character ;  but  I  do  insist  that  they  should 


186  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUailTER. 

be  persons  of  correct  moral  views  and  habits,  and  that 
your  associating  with  them  should  be  for  some  higher 
purpose  than  merely  to  kill  time,  or  to  cultivate  a 
spirit  of  trifling.  It  were  desirable  too,  as  I  have  had 
occasion  elsewhere  to  remark  concerning  your  particu- 
lar friends,  that  the  circle  w^ith  which  you  chiefly  asso- 
ciate should  possess  a  good  degree  of  intelligence, 
that  thus  your  social  intercourse  may  be  instrumental 
of  improving  not  only  your  heart,  but  your  understand- 
ing. If  you  take  due  precautions  on  this  subject,  the 
tune  that  you  pass  in  society,  instead  of  being  lost, 
may  subserve  in  a  high  degree,  your  most  important 
interests ;  while  the  neglect  of  such  precautions  will 
render  the  same  hours  a  mere  blank  in  the  period  of 
your  probation. 

It  is  natural  and  proper  that  those  with  whom  you 
chiefly  mingle  should  be  from  the  same  walks  of  life 
with  yourself.  You  may,  however,  sometimes  provi- 
dentially be  thrown  among  those,  the  circumstances  of 
whose  birth  and  education  have  given  them  a  rank 
quite  superior  to  any  which  you  can  claim  ;  and  as  the 
case  may  be,  persons  of  this  character  may  proffer  you 
their  con^dence  and  friendship.  In  all  cases  of  this 
kind,  never  suffer  yourself  to  be  deluded  by  any  thing 
that  is  connected  with  the  pride  or  circumstance  of 
life  ;  and  do  not  think  it  a  privilege  to  mingle  in  society 
of  the  most  elevated  worldly  rank,  provided  there  be 
any  thing  in  it  to  put  in  jeopardy  your  moral  principles 
and  feelings.    And  let  me  say  too,  that  though  you 


INTERCOURSE  WITH  THE  WORLD.      13t 

may  very  properly  accept  a  fair  and  honorable  intro- 
duction into  any  circle,  no  matter  how  elevated,  yet 
you  ought  never,  by  a  single  action,  or  word,  or  look, 
to  signify  a  wish  for  any  such  distinction.  It  would 
indicate  a  species  of  ambition  certainly  not  the  most 
honorable  ;  and  if  you  should  accomplish  your  object, 
it  is  more  than  probable  that  you  would  meet  the 
reception  which  is  due  only  to  an  intruder. 

You  would  do  injustice  to  yourself,  and  be  wanting 
in  the  discharge  of  your  duty,  if  you  should  not  occa- 
sionally, and  even  frequently,  mingle  in  the  lower 
classes  of  society.  Not  that  I  would  be  an  advocate 
for  confounding  or  annihilating  those  distinctions  which 
Providence  has  manifestly  ordained  ;  nor  would  I  have 
you  in  your  intercourse  with  those  in  the  humble  walks 
of  life,  lose  sight  of  the  mutual  relations  which  you  and 
they  sustain  to  each  other.  But  I  would  have  you  go 
among  them  with  the  benign  aspect  of  friendship  ;  and 
I  would  have  you  make  them  feel  that  you  recognize 
them  as  fellow-creatures,  placed  in  many  respects  on 
the  same  level  with  yourself;  and  I  would  have  you 
leave  an  impression  upon  their  minds  that  the  adven- 
titious distinctions  of  life  are  really  of  little  moment 
compared  with  those  points  in  relation  to  which  all 
stand  upon  an  equality.  The  condescending  yet  digni- 
fied familiarity  which  this  species  of  intercourse  would 
discover,  would  do  more  than  you  can  easily  imagine 
to  render  the  poor  contented  and  cheerful,  and  to 
secure  for  yourself  their  gratitude   and  confidence. 


138  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 

And  let  me  say  too,  that  its  influence  upon  your  own 
heart  would  be  most  salutary — that  it  would  serve  to 
refine  and  elevate  your  social  affections,  and  confer 
dignity  on  your  whole  character. 

There  is  one  more  point  involved  in  the  general 
subject  of  this  letter  which  is  too  important  to  be 
omitted — I  refer  to  the  deportment  which  it  becomes 
you  to  maintain  towards  the  other  sex.  The  impor- 
tance of  this,  both  as  it  respects  yourself  and  others, 
you  can  scarcely  estimate  too  highly.  On  the  one 
hand,  it  has  much  to  do  in  forming  your  own  charac- 
ter; and  I  need  not  say  that  any  lack  of  prudence  in 
this  respect,  even  for  a  single  hour,  may  expose  you  to 
evils  which  no  subsequent  caution  could  enable  you 
effectually  to  repair.  On  the  other  hand,  the  conduct 
of  every  female  who  is  of  the  least  consideration,  may 
be  expected  to  exert  an  influence  on  the  character  of 
every  gentleman  with  whom  she  associates  ;  and  that 
influence  will  be  for  good  or  evil,  as  she  exhibits,  or 
fails  to  exhibit  a  deportment  that  becomes  her.  In- 
deed, so  commanding  is  this  influence,  that  it  is  safe  to 
calculate  upon  the  character  of  any  comniunity,  from 
knowing  the  prevailing  standard  of  female  character ; 
and  that  can  scarcely  be  regarded  as  an  exaggerated 
maxim,  which  declares  that  ''women  rule  the  world." 

Let  me  counsel  you  then  never  to  utter  an  ex- 
pression, or  do  an  act  that  even  looks  like  soliciting 
any  gentleman^s  attention.  Kemember  that  every  ex- 
pression of  civihty,  to  be  of  any  value,  must  be  per- 


INTERCOURSE  V/ITH  THE  WORLD.      139 

fectly  voluntary  ;  and  any  wish  on  your  part,  whether 
directly  or  indirectly  expressed,  to  make  yourself  a 
favorite,  will  be  certain  to  awaken  the  disgust  of  all 
who  know  it.  I  would  not  recommend  to  you  any 
thing  like  a  prudish  or  affected  reserve ;  but  even  this 
were  not  so  unfortunate  an  extreme,  as  an  excessive 
forwardness.  While  you  modestly  accept  any  atten- 
tions wliich  propriety  warrants,  let  there  be  no  attempt 
at  artful  insinuation  on  the  one  hand,  or  at  taking  a 
juan^s  heart  by  storm  on  the  other. 

Be  not  ambitious  to  be  considered  a  belle.  Indeed 
I  had  rather  you  would  be  almost  any  thing  else  that 
does  not  involve  gross  moral  obliquity,  than  this.  It 
is  the  fate  of  most  belles  that  they  become  foolishly 
rain,  think  of  nothing,  and  care  for  nothing  beyond 
personal  display,  and  not  unfrequently  sacrifice  them- 
selves in  a  mad  bargain,  which  involves  their  destinies 
for  life.  The  more  of  solid  and  enduring  esteem  you 
enjoy  the  better ;  and  you  ought  to  gain  whatever  of 
this  you  can  by  honorable  means  ;  but  to  be  admired, 
and  caressed  and  flattered,  for  mere  accidental  quali- 
ties, which  involve  nothing  of  intellectual  or 'moral 
worth,  ought  to  render  any  girl  who  is  the  subject  of 
it,  an  object  of  pity.  You  are  at  liberty  to  desire  the 
good  opinion  of  every  gentleman*of  your  acquaintance  ; 
but  it  would  be  worse  than  folly  in  you  to  be  ambitious 
of  a  blind  admiration. 

I  will  only  add,  that  you  ought  to  be  on  your  guard 
against  the  influence  of  flattery.     Eely  on  it,  the  man 


140 


LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 


who  flatters  you,  whatever  he  may  profess,  is  not  your 
friend.  It  were  a  much  kinder  ofiSce,  and  a  real  mark 
of  friendship,  to  admonish  you  tenderly  yet  honestly, 
of  your  faults.  If  you  yield  a  little  to  flattery,  you 
have  placed  yourself  on  dangerous  ground;  if  you 
continue  to  yield,  you  are  not  improbably  undone. 
Adieu  for  the  present. 

Your  devoted 

FATHER. 


MARRIAaE.  141 


LETTER  XII. 

MARRIAaE. 

My  dear  Child — The  event  of  marriage  marks  an 
important  era  in  the  life  of  a  young  female.  It  intro- 
duces her  to  some  new  and  most  interesting  relations. 
It  devolves  upon  her  a  set  of  cares  and  duties  and  re- 
sponsibilities, to  which  she  has  hitherto  been  unaccus- 
tomed. It  usually  lays  the  foundation  for  increased 
happiness,  or  for  bitter  and  enduring  and  unavailing 
regrets. 

I  begin  my  advice  to  you  on  this  subject,  by  sug- 
gesting a  caution  against  forming  this  connection  pre- 
maturely. There  is  scarcely  any  thing  that  indicates 
a  greater  lack  of  discretion,  than  for  a  young  girl,  at 
a  time  when  she  ought  to  be  giving  her  thoughts  to 
her  books,  and  thus  laying  the  foundation  for  respecta- 
bility and  usefulness,  to  be  giving  her  heart  to  some 
admirer,  and  entering  into  an  arrangement  for  speedily 
giving  him  her  hand.  The  consequence  of  this  is,  that 
she  is  only  imperfectly  educated,  and  not  unfrequently 
is  subjected  through  life,  by  her  deficiencies,  to  serious 
inconvenience  and  mortification.     She  enters  the  con- 


142  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

jugal  state  miserably  qualified  to  sustain  its  responsi- 
bilities ;  and  not  improbably  acquires  a  cast  of  charac- 
ter in  that  relation,  which,  unfortunately,  is  too  en- 
during, and  which  is  aUke  unfavorable  to  her  own 
enjoyment,  and  that  of  those  with  whom  she  is  imme- 
diately connected. 

I  advise  you,  therefore,  as  you  value  your  prospects 
of  happiness  for  life,  that  you  leave  all  matrimonial 
arrangements  to  a  period  subsequent  to  the  completion 
of  your  education.  Even  if  proposals  of  marriage 
should  be  made  to  you,  and  of  an  eligible  kind,  pre- 
vious to  that  time,  it  must  be  ah  extraordinary  case 
indeed  in  which  you  would  be  warranted  to  accept 
them.  The  very  fact  of  your  forming  such  an  engage- 
ment, and  especially  of  your  suffering  it  to  arrest  your 
education,  would  be  set  down  to  your  disadvantage. 
It  would  be  regarded  as  indicating  at  least  an  unfor- 
tunate weakness  in  your  character,  which  would  be  no 
favorable  prognostic  of  a  solid  and  enduring  reputation. 

Another  evil  which  you  should  avoid,  in  connection 
with  this  subject,  is  that  of  forming  this  relation,  or 
pledging  yourself  to  it,  without  due  deliberation. 
Every  one  knows  that  there  is  no  department  of  human 
experience  which  is  so  fruitful  in  wonderful  occurrences 
as  this ;  and  one  of  the  most  singular  of  them  all  is 
the  fact,  that  many  a  young  lady  disposes  of  herself 
for  life,  to  a  man  with  whom  her  acquaintance  has 
been  limited  to  a  few  days,  or  even  a  few  hours.  I 
admit  that  there  may  be  solitary  cases  of  this  kind  in 


MARRIAaE.  -     143 

which  the  result  is  favorable ;  but  no  female  who 
makes  the  rash  experiment,  has  a  right  to  calculate, 
either  from  the  analogy  of  experience  or  the  nature  of 
the  pase,  upon  any  thing  else  than  that  the  result  will 
be  most  disastrous.  If  there  be  one  instance  in  which 
there  has  proved  to  be  a  congeniality  of  thought  and 
feeling  favorable  to  domestic  happiness,  there  are  many 
in  which  the  most  opposite  tempers  and  habits  have 
been  brought  into  an  unnatural  union,  and  the  grave 
of  conjugal  happiness  has  opened  beneath  the  very 
altar  at  which  the  conjugal  union  was  consummated. 

I  would  have  you  then  on  your  guard  against  taking 
a  rash  step  in  relation  to  this  important  matter.  Bear 
in  mind  that  the  decision  which  you  form  on  this  sub- 
ject is  to  affect  vitally  your  interests  for  life  ;  and  not 
only  yours,  but  at  least  those  of  one  other  individual. 
The  consequences  of  an  erroneous  decision  you  will  not 
be  able  to  avoid :  they  will  meet  you,  and  follow  you, 
and  attend  you  through  the  whole  of  the  rugged  path 
which  conducts  you  to  the  grave.    • 

Another  point  of  great  importance  connected  with 
this  subject,  is  the  character  of  the  man  with  whom 
you  are  to  be  united.  There  are  some  quahties  which 
may  be  desirable  enough,  but  are  not  indispensable : 
there  are  others  which  should  be  regarded  as  abso- 
lutely requisite,  and  the  opposites  of  whicli  as  abso- 
lutely disqualifying  for  this  connection. 

It  may  be  a  pleasant  circumstance,  though  it  cer- 
tainly ought  not  to  be  considered  indispensable,  that 


144      "•       LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 

the  individual  with  whom  you  are  to  be  connected 
should  belong  to  an  influential  family.  This  might 
secure  to  you  a  more  valmible  circle  of  acquaintance, 
and  actually  bring  within  your  reach  more  extended 
means,  both  of  improvement  and  of  usefulness,  than 
you  could  reasonably  expect  under  different  circum- 
stances. It  is  an  important  consideration,  that  in 
marriage  the  wife  rises  or  sinks  to  the  level  of  the 
husband ;  and  this  is  a  reason  why  at  least  a  respecta^ 
ble  circle  of  connections  on  his  side,  is  with  her  a  just 
desideratum  ;  for  if  there  be  any  blot  on  the  character 
of  his  family  which  even  remotely  extends  to  him,  as 
soon  as  her  destinies  are  united  with  his,  she  comes  in, 
almost  of  course,  for  her  share  of  the  odium  ;  at  least 
it  has  an  influence  in  determining  the  rank  she  is  to 
hold  in  society.  There  are  cases,  indeed,  in  which  an 
extraordinary  degree  of  personal  merit  completely  re- 
deems the  character  of  an  individual  from  the  deepest 
family  disgrace,  and  in  such  cases  a  lady  would  have 
nothing  to  fear  from  public  opinion  in  giving  her  hand 
in  marriage ;  but  in  any  other  circumstances  it  were 
certainly  desirable  that  she  should  not  throw  herself 
into  a  circle  of  connections  of  a  rank  greatly  inferior 
to  those  with  whom  she  has  been  accustomed  to  mingle. 
If  Providence  should  place  you  by  marriage  in  a  more 
elevated  condition  than  that  to  which  you  have  been 
accustomed,  you  may  regard  it  as  a  favor  that  demands 
your  gratitude,  and  as  a  means  put  into  your  hands  for 
getting  and  doing  good.     But  I  repeat,  never  consider 


MARRIAaE.  145 

this  indispensable.  Be  satisfied  if  the  new  circle  of 
connections  hold  a  fair  and  reputable  standing. 

I  regard  fortune,  as  it  stands  related  to  the  marriage 
of  a  young  lady,  in  nearly  the  same  light  as  family. 
Great  riches  are  desirable  only  as  a  means  of  doing 
good :  as  a  means  of  enjoyment  independently  of  the 
opportunity  they  furnish  for  the  exercise  of  a  benevo- 
lent spirit,  they  are  really  worth  very  little  ;  and  are 
in  no  respect  to  be  preferred  to  a  fair  competence.  If 
I  have  any  wish  that  you  should  be  rich,  it  is  not  that 
I  may  see  you  in  circumstances  of  splendor,  but  that 
I  may  see  you  setting  a  noble  example  of  benevolence — 
not  that  you  may  outshine  those  around  you  in  the 
magnificence  of  your  dwelling,  or  the  costliness  of  your 
furniture  or  equipage,  but  that  you  may  deservedly 
bear  the  palm  in  doing  good  to  the  wretched  and 
perishing.  But  when  I  remember  how  often  riches 
become  a  snare  to  their  possessors,  and  how  many 
females  haTC  been  ruined  by  a  sudden  elevation  to  a 
fortune,  I  cannot  say  that  I  have  a  wish  that  you 
should  ever  encounter  the  temptations  incident  to  that 
condition.  It  is  certainly  desirable  that  there  should 
be  a  competence  on  one  side  or  the  other,  so  much 
as  to  furnish  adequate  means,  in  connection  with  the 
avails  of  some  honest  and  honorable  calling,  for  the 
support  of  a  family ;  but  within  this  limit  any  lady 
may  reasonably  circumscribe  her  wishes. 

Do  not  marry  a  fop.  There  is  in  such  a  character 
nothing  of  true  dignity — nothing  that  commands  re- 

Let.  to  Daug:h.  1 0 


146  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUOHTER. 

spect,  or  insures  even  a  decent  standing  in  the  com- 
munity. There  is  a  mark  upon  him,  an  affected  ele- 
gance of  manner,  a  studied  particularity  of  dress,  and 
usually  a  singular  inanity  of  mind,  by  which  he  is 
known  in  every  circle  in  which  he  moves.  His  very 
attitude  and  gait  tell  the  stranger  who  he  is,  though 
he  only  passes  him  silently  in  the  street.  To  unite 
your  destiny  with  such  a  man,  I  hardly  need  say, 
would  be  to  impress  the  seal  of  disgrace  upon  your 
character,  and  the  seal  of  wretchedness  upon  your 
doom. 

Do  not  marry  a  spendthrift.  No,  not  if  he  have 
ever  so  extensive  a  fortune ;  for  no  degree  of  wealth 
can  secure  such  a  man  from  the  degradation  of  poverty. 
I  have  in  my  eye  at  this  moment  an  accomphshed 
female — and  it  were  easy  to  adduce  a  thousand  similar 
cases^ — who  married  a  man  of  vast  wealth,  but  of  prodi- 
gal habits ;  and  years  have  passed  away  since  that 
immense  fortune  has  gone  to  the  winds  ;  and  the  last 
remains  of  it  were  squandered  amidst  the  tears,  and  in 
spite  of  the  tender  and  earnest  expostulations  of  a 
suffering  family.  And  now  if  I  should  look  for  that 
once  rejoicing  and  apparently  fortunate  bride,  I  should 
go  to  an  obscure  cabin  of  wretchedness,  and  should 
find  her  laboring  with  her  own  hands  to  provide  bread 
for  her  more  than  orphan  children,  and  she  would  tell 
me  a  tale  of  woe  which,  however  familiar  to  me,  would 
make  me  sit  down  and  weep.  This  same  man,  who 
has  plunged  her  and  her  little  ones  into  so  much 


MARRIAaE.  14t 

wretchedness,  possesses  many  naturally  amiable  quali- 
ties, and  is  gifted  with  enviable  powers  of  mind ;  but 
unhappily,  in  early  life  he  became  a  spendthrift,  and  on 
this  rock  the  fortunes  of  himself  and  of  his  family  were 
wrecked.  If  you  should-  ever  give  yourself  to  a  man 
of  similar  character,  you  need  not  be  disappointed  if 
you  should  experience  a  similar  destiny. 

Do  not  marry  a  miser.  Such  a  man  may  be  rich, 
very  rich,  but  you  could  expect  that  his  riches  would 
yield  you  little  else  than  misery.  It  is  not  improbable 
that  you  might  have  the  mortification  of  being  com- 
pelled not  only  to  refuse  every  call  of  charity,  but  to 
abridge,  in  a  great  degree,  your  own  personal  com^ 
forts,  and  of  knowing  ^t  the  same  time  that  there  were 
ample  means  within  your  reach  which  yet  you  were 
forbidden  to  appropriate.  If  you  must  marry  a  miser, 
I  would  say,  better  marry  one  who  is  poor  than  one 
who  is  rich  ;  for  in  the  former  case,  to  whatever  incon- 
venience you  might  be  exposed,  you  would  be  saved 
the  disheartening  reflection,  that  you  were  poor  in  the 
midst  of  abundance.  As  I  would  have  you  always 
cultivate  a  noble  and  liberal  spirit,  I  beg  you  will 
never  for  a  moment  think  of  forming  a  connection 
that  shall  subject  you  in  this  respect  to  the  least  em- 
barrassment. 

Do  not  marry  a  man  whose  age  is  greatly  dispro- 
portioned  to  your  own.  I  will  not  say  that  circum- 
stances never  exist  which  justify  a  deviation  from  this 
rule  ;  or  that  there  are  no  cases  in  which  it  is  violated 


148  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 

that  result  favorably  to  th^  happiness  of  both  parties. 
But  I  am  constrained  to  say  that  such  connections 
present,  at  least  to  my  own  eye,  a  violation  of  good 
taste,  and  seem  contrary  to  the  dictates  of  nature. 
Besides,  it  is  an  exceedingly  awkward  thing  for  a  young- 
girl  to  be  going  round  with  a  man  of  triple  her  own 
age  as  a  husband,  and  puzzling  all  who  see  them 
together  to  decide  whether  she  is  the  granddaughter 
or  the  wife.  And  a  greater  evil  still  is,  that  there 
must  needs  be  in  many  respects  an  entire  lack  of  con- 
geniality between  them.  He  has  the  habits  and  feel- 
ings of  age,  she  the  vivacity  and  buoyancy  of  youth  ; 
and  it  were  impossible  that  this  wide  difference  should 
not  sooner  or  later  be  painfully  felt.  And  she  may 
reasonably  expect  that  some  of  her  best  days  will  be 
spent,  not  in  sustaining  the  infirmities  of  an  aged 
father,  but  in  ministering  to  the  necessities  of  a  super- 
annuated husband  ;  and  it  would  not  be  strange  if  the 
burden  should  be  increased  by  her  being  compelled  to 
encounter  the  spirit  of  complaint  and  petulance  by 
which  old  age  is  often  attended.  I  confess  that  when- 
ever I  see  a  respectable  female  in  the  meridian  of  life 
in  these  circumstances,  I  regard  her  with  pity ;  and 
though  I  venerate  her  for  the  affectionate  and  faith- 
ful attentions  which  she  renders  to  the  man  whom 
she  has  accepted  as  her  husband,  I  cannot  but  wish, 
for  the  sake  of  her  own  dignity  and  happiness,  that 
those  attentions  had  devolved  upon  some  other  indi- 
vidual. 


MARRIAaE.  149' 

Do  not  marry  a  man  who  is  not  indastrious  in  some 
honorable  vocation.  It  is  bad  for  any  individual  to 
be  without  some  set  employment :  the  effect  of  it  is 
very  apt  to  be,  that  he  abuses  his  talents,  perverts  his 
time  to  unworthy  purposes,  and  contracts  a  habit  of 
living  to  little  purpose  but  that  of  self-gratification. 
A  man  without  property,  and  yet  without  business,  no 
girl  could  ever  think  of  marrying,  unless  she  had  made 
up  her  mind  to  sell  herself  to  the  lowest  bidder.  A 
rich  man  may  have  retired  from  active  business,  after 
accumulating  an  estate,  and  yet  may  find  employmwt 
enough  in  the  supervision  and  management  of  it ;  but 
if  a  man  has  become  rich  by  inheritance,  and  has  never 
acquired  a  habit  of  industry,  and  has  been  brought  up 
in  abundance  to  live  only  as  a  drone,  I  would  say  that 
it  were  scarcely  more  safe  to  marry  him  than  if  he 
were  actually  poor  ;  for  this  indolent  habit  is  a  pledge 
of  the  speedy  dissipation  of  his  property.  A  habit  of 
industry  once  formed  is.  not  likely  to  be  ever  lost. 
Place  the  individual  in  whatever  circumstances  you 
will,  and  he  will  not  be  satisfied  unless  he  can  be 
active.  Moreover,  it  will  impart  to  his  character  an 
energy  and  efficiency,  and  I  may  add,  dignity,  which 
can  hardly  fail  to  render  him  an  object  of  respect.  I 
should  regard  your  prospects  for  life  as  far  better,  if 
you  should  marry  a  man  of  very  hmited  property,  or 
even  no  property  at  all,  with  an  honest  vocation  and 
a  habit  of  industry,  than  if  I  were  to  see  you  united  to 
one  of  extensive  wealth,  who  had  never  been  taught 


150  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUO-HTER. 

to  exercise  his  own  powers,  and  had  sunk  into  the 
sensual  gratification  of  himself. 

Do  not  marry  a  man  of  iin  irritable,  violent,  or 
overbearing  temper.  There  is  nothing  with  which 
domestic  enjoyment  is  more  intimately  connected,  than 
a  naturally  amiable  and  affectionate  disposition ;  and 
the  absence  of  this  is  sure  to  render  a  delicate  and 
sensitive  female,  in  no  small  degree,  unhappy.  To  be 
compelled  to  witness  frequent  ebullitions  of  angry 
passion — to  hear  her  well-intended  actions  often  com- 
plained of,  and  her  purest  motives  bitterly  impeached— 
to  feel  that  the  stern  hand  of  power  is  stretched  over, 
rather  than  the  soft  arm  of  kindness  laid  beneath  her — • 
this  is  a  lot  from  which  it  would  seem  the  gentleness 
of  female  character  ought  to  claim  an  exemption.  I 
say  then,  as  you  value  your  comfort,  venture  not  to 
form  this  connection  with  a  man  of  an  unamiable  tem-_ 
per.  The  only  exception  to  be  made  from  this  remark 
is  the  case  of  the  man,  in  whom  the  principle  of  re- 
ligion has  gained  such  an  ascendency  as  to  remedy  the 
obUquities  of  a  perverse  constitution.  But  this  is  one 
of  the  highest  and  hohest  triumphs  of  religion  itself ; 
and  you  ought  to  gain  good  evidence  that  it  has  ac- 
complished this  noble  work,  before  you  venture  to 
stake  your  happiness  upon  it. 

Do  not  marry  a  man  who  is  deficient  in  understand- 
ing, or  in  mental  acquisitions.  I  do  not  mean  that 
you  should  look  for  an  intellect  of  the  highest  order, 
or  that  you  should  consider  yourself  entitled  to  it ;  but 


MARRlAaE.  151 

I  mean  that  a  woman  of  decent  intelligence  can  never 
be  happy  with  a  fool.  If  you  were  united  to  a  man 
of  inferior  endowments,  you  would  not  only  lose  the 
advantage  which  might  result  from  an  unreserved  in-, 
tercourse  with  one  of  a  different  character,  but  you 
would  also  be  subject  to  a  thousand  painful  mortifica- 
tions from  the  awkward  mistakes  and  ridiculous  opin- 
ions which  would  result  from  his  ignorance.  There  is 
scarcely  any  thing  more  painful,  than  to  observe  a  lady 
and  her  husband  in  society  when  every  one  feels  the 
superiority  of  the  former  to  the  latter;  and  when  the 
wife  herself  is  manifestly  so  much  impressed  with  his 
inferiority,  that  the  opening  of  his  lips  is  the  signal  for 
the  dropping  of  her  head,  or  for  a  blush  to  diffuse  itself 
over  her  countenance.  It  were  certainly  a  mark  of 
imprudence  for  any  lady  to  marry  a  man  whom  she 
would  be  ashamed  to  introduce  into  any  circle  to 
which  she  would  have  access. 

Do  not  marry  a  man  who  is  sceptical  in  his  princi- 
ples. If  he  be  an  avowed  infidel,  or  if  he  hold  any 
fundamental  error  in  religion,  and  yet  have  every  other 
quality  which  you  could  desire,  it  would  be  an  act  of 
infatuation  in  you  to  consent  to  become  his  wife.  You 
cannot,  upon  any  principles  of  reason,  calculate  that, 
if  you  do  this,  you  will  escape  injury.  I  know  an  in- 
stance in  which  a  young  female  who  had  had  a  religious 
education  married  an  infidel,  a  thorough-going  disci- 
ple of  that  female  monster  who  has  recently  gone 
through  this  country  on  the  most  malignant  of  all 


152  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUailTER. 

errands,  to  corrupt  its  youth  ;  and  the  consequence 
of  this  connection  has  been,  that  she  has  plunged  with 
her  husband  into  the  gulf  of  infidelity,  and  now  openly 
reviles  the  Saviour,  and  ridicules  the  most  sacred  and 
awful  truths  of  religion.  I  know  another  instance  in 
which  the  husband  of  a  lady  of  established  religious 
principles,  and  of  apparently  devoted  piety,  became  a 
zealous  advocate  of  one  of  the  grossest  systems  of 
error  that  has  ever  been  baptized  into  the  Christian 
name;  and  though  at  first. she  halted,  and  thought 
she  could  never  yield,  and  even  expostulated  with  her 
husband  to  retreat  from  the  verge  of  the  precipice,  yet 
she  herself  at  length  tremblingly  approached,  and 
finally  took  the  fatal  leap  ;  and  now,  instead  of  hear- 
ing her  talk  of  her  reliance  on  Jesus  Christ,  and  of  the 
preciousness  and  the  power  of  his  atonmg  sacrifice, 
you  will  hear  her  speak  of  him  as  only  a  good  moral 
teacher,  and  of  her  own  salvation  as  if  the  glory  of  it 
all  belonged  to  herself.  And  I  doubt  not  that  these 
instances  furnish  a  fair  illustration  of  the  influence  of 
such  a  connection  on  the  female  character.  You  may 
rest  assured  that  you  cannot  be  the  constant  compan- 
ion of  an  infidel,  without  breathing  an  atmosphere 
that  is  strongly  impregnated  with  moral  corruption ; 
and  it  were  little  short  of  a  miracle  if  you  should 
breathe  such  an  atmosphere,  without  inhaling  the 
elements  of  death.  If  I  were  to  see  you  in  these 
circumstances,  though  I  would  still  commend  you  to 
a  God  of  mercy,  I  could  scarcely  forbear  to  weep 


MARRIAaE.  153 

over  your  lot,  as  if  your  ruin  were  actually  accom- 
IDlished. 

Do  not  marry  a  man  of  questionable  morality. 
However  correct  may  be  his  moral  and  religious  opin- 
ions, if  he  be  addicted  to  only  a  single  species  of  vice, 
you  have  no  security  that  he  will  not  sink  into  the 
vortex  of  profligacy.  If  he  be  a  profane  man,  he 
certainly  cannot  have  the  fear  of  God  before  his  eyes, 
and  of  course  cannot  be  under  the  controlling  influence 
of  moral  obligation.  If  he  suffer  himself  to  be  only 
occasionally  found  at  the  gaming  table,  or  if  he  be 
addicted  in  the  slightest  degree  to  intemperance,  there 
is  a  melancholy  probability  that  he  will,  ere  long,  be- 
come a  desperate  gambler,  and  a  shameless  sot ;  and 
think  what  it  would  be  to  be  obliged  to  recognize  such 
a  man  as  your  nearest  friend — a  man  whose  character 
is  rendered  odious  by  the  very  loathsomeness  of  de- 
pravity. I  say  then,  if  there  be  a  single  exceptionable 
point  in  the  moral  character  of  the  man  who  offers 
himself  to  you,  reject  his  proposals  without  hesitation ; 
to  accept  them  would  in  all  probability  be  to  prepare 
for  yourself  a  cup  of  unmingled  bitterness,  and  possibly  . 
to  exile  yourself  from  the  society  of  your  own  friends. 

Having  said  thus  much  in  relation  to  what  should 
be  avoided,  and  what  should  be  desired,  in  the  charac- 
ter of  a  husband,  I  shall  close  this  letter  with  a  few 
brief  directions  in  respect  to  your  conduct  previously 
and  subsequently  to  your  forming  an  engagement. 

If  a  gentleman  addresses  you  on  the  subject  of  mar- 


154  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER.     ^ 

riage,  the  presumption  is  that  the  proposal  is  unex- 
pected ;  and  unless  you  can  decide  instantly  in  the 
negative,  in  which  case  you  are  bound  to  apprise  him 
of  your  decision  without  delay,  it  is  proper  that  you 
should  make  his  proposal  a  subject  of  immediate  and 
serious  consideration.  In  ordinary  cases,  it  is  unneces- 
sary to  ask  the  advice  of  any  beside  your  parents.  It 
is  due  to  filial  respect  that  they  should  be  consulted ; 
and  as  they  are  most  deeply  interested  in  your  happi- 
ness, you  could  not  fail  to  regard  their  opinion  with 
suitable  deference.  The  two  great  questions  which 
you  have  to  decide  in  order  to  form  your  ultimate 
conclusion,  are,  whether,  on  the  whole,  you  are  satis- 
fied with  his  character,  and  whether  you  are  suscepti- 
ble of  that  degree  of  affection  for  him  which  will  justify 
this  connection.  If,  after  due  consideration,  you  can 
answer  both  these  questions  in  the  affirmative,  it  may 
be  safe  to  decide  agreeably  to  his  wishes.  If  you  are 
constrained  to  answer  either  in  the  negative,  your  duty 
to  him  as  well  as  yourself  demands  that  you  should 
come  to  a  contrary  decision.  And  in  either  case,  you 
are  to  lose  no  time  in  apprising  him  of  the  result.  If 
it  be  that  you  decline  his  proposals,  make  it  known  to 
him  in  a  manner  which  will  be  least  likely  to  wound 
his  sensibility,  and  let  the  secret  of  his  having  addressed 
you  never  pass  your  hps.  Your  answer  in  this  case 
places  him  in  an  unpleasant  situation  at  any  rate  ;  and 
it  were  more  than  cruel  to  add  to  his  mortification  by 
giving  publicity  to  the  occasion  of  it.     If,  on  the  other 


MARRIAaE.  155 

hand,  the  result  is  that  you  accept  his  proposals, 
modestly  and  affectionately  inform  him  of  it,  and  from 
that  period  consider  yourself  sacredly  bound  through 
every  vicissitude  to  become  his  wife. 

An  engagement  thus  deliberately  formed,  and  in- 
volving such  important  interests,  it  were  an  indication 
of  something  more  than  weakness  to  trifle  with  :  it 
betrays  an  obliquity  of  moral  feeling,  a  lack  of  gener- 
ous sensibihty,  and  a  recklessness  of  character,  which 
might  well  lead  any  gentleman,  towards  whom  the 
outrage  was  directed,  to  congratulate  himself  upon 
having  been  the  subject  of  it,  rather  than  to  have  had 
the  same  qualities  to  encounter  for  life,  in  the  nearest 
and  tenderest  of  all  relations.  The  young  lady  who 
wantonly  refuses  to  fulfil  an  engagement  of  marriage, 
in  the  estimation  of  all  whose  good  opinion  is  worth 
possessing,  subjects  herself  to  disgrace  j  and  you  will 
find,  not  unfrequently,  that  Providence  ordains  some- 
thing like  a  retribution  in  rendering  any  subsequent 
connection  which  may  be  formed,  a  source  of  continual 
unhappiness. 

There  are  only  two_cases  which  occur  to  me,  in 
which  there  can  be  any  good  ground  for  a  young  lady 
to  decline  giving  her  hand  in  marriage  after  it  has 
been  promised.  The  one  is  that  in  which  the  person 
to  whom  she  is  pledged,  subsequently  to  an  engage- 
ment, avows-  licentious  principles,  or  yields  to  any  im- 
moral practice.  The  other  is  that  in  which  she  dis- 
covers that  he  has  intentionally  concealed  from  her 


156  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

any  thing  in  respect  to  his  character  or  circumstances, 
which,  had  she  known  it  seasonably,  would  have  pre- 
vented her  forming  the  engagement.  In  both  these 
cases  it  is  manifest  that  she  has  a  right  to  withdraw  ; 
for  in  the  one,  he  has  voluntarily  assumed  a  character 
which  will  be  sure  to  render  her  wretched,  and  which, 
if  he  had  possessed  it  when  the  engagement  was 
formed,  would  have  led  her  unhesitatingly  to  decline 
his  proposals  :  in  the  other,  he  has  gained  her  consent 
by  deception,  and  it  were  impossible  that  she  should 
be  morally  bound  in  a  contract,  in  which  the  ground 
on  which  she  would  have  acted  was  concealed  from 
her.  But  where,  instead  of  immorality  or  infidelity, 
there  has  been  nothing  but  misfortune — where  the 
evils  which  have  come  upon  him,  however  disastrous, 
have  been  the  result,  not  of  his  own  folly  or  guilt,  but 
of  the  ordinance  of  Heaven,  there  is  not  the  shadow 
of  an  apology  for  her  deserting  him.  I  do  not  say 
that  circumstances  may  not  exist,  in  which  it  may  be 
best  for  both  parties  that  the  engagement  should  not 
take  effect ;  but  if  it  is  dissolved,  let  it  be  a  matter  of 
fair  understanding,  and  mutual  consent :  for  her  to 
refuse  to  fulfil  it,  were  nothing  less  than  a  wanton  vio- 
lation of  good  faith.  In  ifecoming  engaged  to  him, 
she  of  course  consented  to  share  with  him  the  lot 
which  Providence  sjrould  appoint ;  and  though  she 
certainly  has  a  right  to  refuse  to  share  the  conse- 
quences of  vices  which  he  may  subsequently  have  con- 
tracted, she  has  no  right  to  decline  a  part  with  him 


MARRIAaE.  157 

in  any  afflictions  which  may  be  administered  by  the 
righteous  hand  of  God. 

But  you  will  ask,  perhaps,  whether  there  is  not  yet 
another  case,  in  which  a  lady  may  be  justified  in  de- 
clining to  fulfil  a  promise  of  marriage — that  in  which 
she  discovers,  after  she  is  engaged,  that  the  person  to 
whom  she  has  come  under  obligation,  is  not  in  a  suf- 
ficient degree  the  object  of  her  affection.  In  a  case  of 
this  kind,  I  would  say,  let  her  beware  how  she  yields 
to  an  occasional  freak  of  feeling,  or  take  up  the  opinion 
that  she  has  no  solid  attachment  to  the  individual, 
because  in  some  particular  states  of  mind  she  feels  or 
imagines  that  she  feels  a  sentiment  of  indifference 
towards  him.  But  if  she  is  satisfied,  after  faithfully 
watching  her  own  feelings,  that  the  prevailing  habit 
of  her  mind  towards  him  is  a  habit  of  indifference  or 
aversion,  better  perhaps  that  she  should  honestly  com- ' 
municate  the  fact  to  him ;  and  no  doubt  his  consent 
will  be  readily  obtained  for  the  dissolution  of  the  en- 
gagement. But  in  this  case,  let  her  remember  that 
she  does  not  rid  herself  of  responsibility.  She  subjects 
herself  to  the  imputation  of  having  acted  rashly  in  a 
case  which  preeminently  required  that  she  should  have 
acted  deliberately  ;  or  else  of  possessing  a  fickleness  of 
character  which  must  throw  an  air  of  suspicion  around 
all  her  declarations  and  conduct.  The  blame  of  the 
whole  transaction  rests  upon  herself;  and  the  most 
that  she  can  do  is,  to  transfer  it  from  her  conduct  at 
the  close,  to  her  conduct  at  the  beginning.    Whatever 


158  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUOHTER. 

evil  consequences  may  result  to  the  individual  whom 
she  has  disappointed,  she  must  charge,  if  not  upon  her 
deliberate  intention  to  injure,  yet  upon  her  criminal 
neglect  to  avoid  it.  Let  her  never  open  her  lips  to 
adduce  her  want  of  attachment  as  the  shadow  of  an 
apology.  It  amounts  only  to  an  acknowledgment  of 
her  own  caprice,  and  with  the  discerning  passes  for 
absolutely  nothing. 

During  the  period  that  intervenes  between  forming 
an  engagement  and  consummating  the  connection,  let 
your  deportment  towards  the  individual  to  whom  you 
have  given  your  affections,  be  marked  by  modesty  and 
dignity,  respect  and  kindness.  Never,  on  the  one 
hand,  give  him  the  least  reason  to  question  the  sin- 
cerity of  your  regard,  nor  on  the  other,  suffer  your 
intercourse  with  him  to  be  marked  by  an  undignified 
familiarity.  Do  all  that  you  can  to  render  him  happy ; 
and  while  you  will  naturally  grow  in  each  other's  con- 
fidence and  affection,  you  may  reasonably  hope  that 
you  will  be  helpers  of  each  other's  joy  in  the  most 
endearing  of  all  human  relations. 

Ever  your  devoted 

FATHER. 

1^ 


RELIG-IOUS  SENTIMENTS.  159 


LETTER   XIII. 

FORMINa  RELiaiOUS   SENTIMENTS. 

My  dear  Child — I  have  now  gone  through  with  a 
consideration  of  a  number  of  those  topics  which  I  deem 
important  to  you  in  practical  life.  There  is  one  sub- 
ject, however,  which  concerns  you  more  deeply  than 
any  other,  which  remains  to  be  considered.  It  is  the 
subject  of  religion.  It  is  this,  which  is  identified  with 
all  your  interests  as  an  immortal  creature.  A  de- 
ficiency in  other  respects  may  indeed  occasion  you 
much  inconvenience  in  the  world ;  but  a  radical  de- 
ficiency here  must  extend  its  influence  beyond  the 
grave,  and  be  felt  in  the  unmitigated  pangs  of  an 
eternal  perdition. 

The  first  branch  of  this  momentous  subject  to  which 
I  wish  to  call  your  attention,  is  the  formation  of  your 
religious  sentiments.  It  has  been  a  doctrine  unhappily 
current  in  modern  times,  that  our  religious  characters 
do  not,  ip  any  important  sense,  derive  their  complexion 
from  our  religious  opinions  ;  and  the  practical  influence 
of  this  doctrine  has  been  exhibited  in  confoundmg  the 


160  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

most  important  distinctions  in  religion,  and  in  annihi- 
lating, in  a  great  measure,  the  importance  of  Christian 
faith.  There  are  no  doubt  some  truths  in  religion, 
couj3erning  which  a  mistake  does  not  constitute  a 
fundamental  error ;  but  it  is  equally  true  that  there 
are  other  great  and  commanding  truths  which  form 
the  very  soul  of  piety,  the  behef  of  which  must  enter 
radically  into  our  claim  to  Christian  character.  For 
why  have  the  truths  of  the  Bible  been  revealed,  if  it 
is  not  that  they  should  be  believed  ;  and  of  what  use 
can  a  revelation  be  to  us,  if  it  be  not  so  explicit  that, 
with  the  proper  application  of  our  faculties,  we  can 
ascertain  what  are  its  leading  and  essential  features? 
Moreover,  it  is  the  system  of  divine  truth  that  is  the 
basis  of  the  whole  fabric  of  practical  religion.  If  re- 
ligion consist  exclusively  in  being  a  good  neighbor,  and 
in  discharging  the  duties  arising  from  our  social  rela- 
tions, I  will  admit  that  faith  in  its  doctrines  may  be 
dispensed  with,  and  yet  no  very  perceptible  chasm  be 
made  in  the  system.  But  if  it  be  vastly  more  com- 
prehensive in  its  demands — if  it  have  respect  to  the 
manner  of  our  reconciliation  with  an  offended  Grod — if 
it  embrace  all  the  mighty  machinery  of  Providence 
with  respect  to  our  redemption,  and  all  the  duties 
which  we  owe  to  God  as  well  as  man,  then  it  were 
as  absurd  to  suppose  that  you  can  discharge  the  great 
duties  of  practical  religion,  while  you  are  indifferent 
to  the  truths  of  the  Bible,  as  that  the  man  should  cal- 
culate the  distances  of  the  planets,  or  conduct  a  ship 


RELiaiOUS  SENTIMENTS.  161 

through  the  ocean,  who  was  either  ignorant  or  incredu- 
lous in  respect  to  the  elementary  principles  of  naviga- 
tion or  astronomy.  It  is  the  practical  reception  of 
truth  that  constitutes  the  very  essence  of  piety ;  and 
though  there  may  be  a  speculative  belief  of  it  without 
a  particle  of  vital  godliness,  be  assured  there  can  be 
no  such  thing  as  genuine  practical  religion  without  an 
intellectual  assent  to  the  truth  of  its  doctrines.  So 
far  from  being  unimportant,  then,  faith  is  one  of  the 
essential  elements  of  piety. 

It  is  then  a  question  of  great  moment,  in  what 
manner  you  shall  become  possessed  of  a  correct  system 
of  religious  opinions.  To  aid  you  in  this  important 
matter,  let  me  suggest  the  following  brief  directions. 

Let  your  opinions  be  drawn  directly  from  the  Bible. 
I  know  it  is  the  ordinance  of  Heaven  that  the  first 
impressions  of  divine  truth  which  children  receive, 
should  ordinarily  be  from  their  parents ;  and  it  be- 
comes parents  to  take  heed  that  those  first  impressions 
are  correct :  but  even  if  your  parents  should  inculcate 
error,  you  can  no  longer  be  innocent  in  holding  it  than 
while  you  are  incapable  of  referring  their  opinions  to 
the  law  and  the  testimony.  The  fact  that  certain 
doctrines  may  have  been  taught  you  by  the  lips  of 
parental  tenderness,  is  certainly  a  reason  why  you 
should  not  lightly  cast  them  from  you ;  but  it  is  due 
to  your  own  personal  responsibility,  that  you  should  re- 
ceive no  doctrines  ultimately  on  mere  human  authority. 
So  also  you  may  derive  much  advantage  from  studying 

L«t.  toDaugh.  11 


162  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

the  writings  of  uninspired  men ;  but  you  are  to  bear 
in  mind  that  they  are  faUible  Uke  yourself,  and  that 
in  adopting  their  opinions  as  your  own,  without  ex- 
amination, you  not  only  refuse  the  privilege  which  God 
has  given  you,  of  thinking  for  yourself,  but  you  need- 
lessly run  the  hazard  of  embracing  error.  While  you 
mal^e  whatever  use  you  can  of  these  lesser  lights  in 
religion,  remember  that  it  is  alike  your  privilege  and 
your  duty,  to  receive  the  beams  of  divine  truth  directly 
from  the  Sun  of  righteousness.  Having  satisfied  your- 
self that  the  Bible  is  a  revelation  from  God,  you  are 
to  receive  implicitly  whatever  it  contains,  however 
humbling  to  the  pride  of  the  intellect,  or  opposed  to 
the  strongest  propensities  of  the  heart. 

But  you  will  perhaps  ask  whether,  inasmuch  as 
great  minds  have  arrived  at  different  and  opposite 
conclusions  in  respect  to  what  the  Bible  contains,  it  be 
not  a  difiicult  matter  to  ascertain  its  genuine  docti'ines  ; 
so  difficult  even  as  to  discourage  exertion,  and  furnish 
some  apology  for  an  indolent  acquiescence  in  human 
authority.  I  answer,  the  fact  to  which  I  have  ad* 
verted  may  indeed  be  a  reason  for  not  taking  up  any 
opinions  rashly,  but  it  is  also  an  important  argument 
for  not  taking  them  upon  trust ;  for  if  equally  gifted 
minds  have  rushed  into  opposite  extremes,  it  is  certain 
that  fine  intellectual  powers,  unless  guided  by  a  proper 
moral  influence,  do  not  furnish  the  shadow  of  a  security 
against  error.  The  best  interpreter  of  Scripture,  and 
the  only  safe  one,  is  good  common-sense,  under  the 


RELiaiOUS  SENTIMENTS.  163 

direction  of  an  humble  and  teachable  temper.  Let 
there  be  an  honest  desire  to  know  the  truth,  and  let 
that  desire  be  directed  to  the  Author  of  all  spiritual 
illumination,  and  let  it  be  accompanied  with  a  diligent 
use  of  the  means  which  are  within  our  reach,  and  we 
need  have  no  fear  of  being  left  to  any  fundamental 
error.  It  was  the  declaration  of  our  Saviour  to  the 
Jews,  that  if  they  would  keep  his  commandments,  they 
should  know  his  doctrine  whether  it  was  of  God.  If 
a  powerful  intellect  were  essential  to  the  right  under- 
standing of  Scripture,  you  perceive  at  once  that  to  the 
mass  of  the  world,  who  possess  only  common  minds,  it 
would  be  a  mere  dead  letter  ;  but  as  no  higher  intel- 
lectual powers  are  necessary  than  fall  to  the  common 
lot  of  man,  in  connection  with  that  spirit  of  docihty 
and  dependence  on  divine  illumination  which  all  may, 
if  they  wilV  possess,  it  is  manifest  that  the  Bible  is 
fairly  open  to  all ;  and  that  every  individual  is  as 
truly  responsible  for  his  religious  opinions  as  for  his 
moral  conduct. 

In  endeavoring  to  ascertain  the  doctrines  of  the 
Bible,  it  were  desirable  that  you  should  bear  in  mind 
that  the  obvious  meaning  of  a  passage  is  generally  the 
correct  one  ;  for  if  it  were  not  so,  it  would  be  impossi- 
ble for  mankind  in  general  ever  to  gain  an  intelligent 
conviction  of  its  truths.  And  if  I  mistake  not,  one  of 
the  most  fruitful  sources  of  error  is  found  in  a  dis- 
position to  overlook  the  obvious  meaning  and  search 
for  something  hidden — something  that  shall  bear  the 


164  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaiiTER. 

impression  of  novelty  or  of  mystery.  Far  be  it  from 
me  to  question  that  the  Bible  is  an  inexhaustible 
treasury  of  wisdom  ;  and  it  is  one  of  its  glorious  pecu- 
liarities that  it  will  supply  materials  for  reflection  to 
the  noblest  intellect,  and  will  reward  its  most  diligent 
researches  through  every  period  of  its  existence. 
Nevertheless,  its  leading  doctrines  are  fairly  within 
the  reach  of  common  minds  in  common  circumstances  ; 
and  if  you  approach  it,  satisfied  to  receive  the  obvious 
sense  as  the  true  sense,  there  is  no  danger  that  you 
will  be  left  to  adopt  the  speculations  and  vagaries  of 
a  false  theology.  A  system  of  error  is  never  deduced 
from  the  Bible  easily  and  naturally  ;  it  is  only  by  being 
subjected  to  the  torture  of  a  false  construction. 

The  true  system  of  religion  must,  in  every  respect, 
correspond  with  the  character  of  God.  As  religion 
includes  the  great  gystem  of  the  divine  administration, 
it  is  impossible  but  that  every  part  of  it  must  be  agree- 
able to  his  infinitely  perfect  nature.  Any  system  of 
doctrine,  then,  which  tarnishes  any  of  the  divine  attri- 
butes, which  is  inconsistent  with  the  highest  exercise 
of  wisdom,  goodness,  justice,  faithfulness,  or  holiness, 
cannot  be  true,  and  of  course  can  never  have  been 
revealed  by  a  God  of  truth.  I  admit  that  in  the 
manifestation  of  these  perfections,  there  may  be  depths 
which  the  line  of  no  human  understanding  can  fathom : 
and  hence  the  Bible  may  and  does,  in  a  certain  sense, 
contain  mysteries  ;  but  any  doctrine  which  is  perceived 
to  be  irreconcilable  with  the  free  and  perfect  exercise 


RELiaiOUS  SENTIMENTS.  165 

of  any  of  these  attributes,  any  doctrine  vfhich  exhibits 
them  at  variance  with  each  other,  and  which  would  of 
course  leave  the  divine  character  to  suffer  in  the  view 
of  the  intelligent  creation,  must  be  the  product  of 
proud  and  erring  reason.  It  will  be  well  for  you  to 
inquire  in  respect  to  every  doctrine  that  is  proposed 
to  your  faith,  what  is  its  bearing  upon  the  character 
of  God  ?  Is  it  honorable  or  dishonorable  to  any  or 
all  of  the  divine  perfections  ?  And  if  you  can  decide 
this  question  satisfactorily,  you  need  not  hesitate  as  to 
the  ultimate  conclusion. 

But  if  the  true  system  of  religion  must  be  agreeable 
to  the  perfections  of  God,  equally  certain  is  it  that  it 
must  be  accommodated  to  the  condition  of  man ;  for 
one  grand  design  of  it  is  to  secure  and  perfect  human 
happiness.  To  say  nothing  of  man  as  a  social  being, 
and  of  the  fact  that  the  gospel  might  be  expected  to 
supply  rules  for  the  regulation  of  his  conduct  in  this 
capacity — it  requires  but  little  knowledge  of  one's  self, 
and  little  observation  of  the  conduct  of  others,  to 
arrive  at  the  conclusion  that  man  is  a  sinner,  and  as 
such  has  exposed  himself  to  the  displeasure  of  God. 
Most  unquestionably,  then,  no  system  of  religion  could 
be  suited  to  the  actual  exigencies  of  human  nature, 
but  one  that  should  offer  a  twofold  deliverance — a 
deliverance  from  the  punishment  of  sin,  and  from  the 
dominion  of  sin ;  for  even  if  the  sinner's  guilt  were 
cancelled,  yet  if  he  were  still  left  the  slave  of  evil  pro- 
pensities, forgiveness  itself  would  be  no  blessing.     You 


166  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

perceive  that  a  system  of  religion  which  should  merely 
prescribe  a  course  of  external  morality,  however  it 
might  be  accommodated  to  man  as  a  social  being, 
would  be  very  inadequate  to  the  higher  necessities  of 
his  condition  ;  any  system  short  of  that  which  brings 
peace  to  the  laboring  conscience,  and  sanctifi  cation  to 
the  polluted  soul,  in  consistency  with  the  honor  of  the 
divine  character  and  government,  as  it  could  never 
answer  the  purpose  for  which  religion  was  designed, 
were,  no  better  than  a  mockery  of  human  woe.  I  need 
not  say  that  a  God  of  love  has  never  thus  trifled  with 
the  wants  of  his  creatures. 

The  true  system  of  religion  must  also  be  rational. 
There  may  be,  and  there  are,  as  I  have  already  inti- 
mated, doctrines,  which  in  some  of  their  lofty  and 
intricate  bearings,  we  may  not  be  able  to  comprehend  ; 
but  even  these  doctrines,  so  far  as  they  are  practical 
in  the  present  state  of  our  existence,  commend  them- 
selves both  to  the  understanding  and  the  conscience. 
That  they  are  above  human  reason  certainly  cannot 
be  questioned  ;  but  that  they  are  contrary  to  it  never 
has  been,  and  never  can  be  shown.  God  addresses  us 
in  the  I?ible  as  rational  beings ;  of  course  the  truths 
which  he  reveals  and  requires  us  to  believe,  must  be 
conformable  to  the  reason  which  he  has  given  us,  and 
to  which  he  primarily  addresses  the  revelation.  To 
receive  any  doctrine  that  is  contrary  to  reason,  were 
to  insult  the  dignity  of  our  own  nature  :  to  reject  any 
doctrme  merely  because  it  is  above  reason,  were  to 


RELIGrlOUS  SENTIMENTS.  16T 

claim  a  right  to  sit  in  judgment  on  the  decisions  of  the 
Highest. 

The  true  system  of  rehgion  must  be  consistent  witli 
itself.  Truth  i^  always  consistent ;  and  as  we  have  a 
right  here  to  assume  that  whatever  the  Bible  contains 
is  truth,  it  follows  that  there  must  exist  a  perfect 
harmony  among  its  various  doctrines.  There  are  in- 
deed some  portions  of  Scripture  which  may  be  hard  to 
be  understood,  and  may  seem  susceptible  of  some 
variety  of  interpretation ;  but  in  every  such  case  the 
true  rule  is,  to  judge  of  what  is  doubtful  by  what  is 
clear.  And  if  there  be  some  passages  which  seem  at 
first  view  to  be  inconsistent  with  the  leading  doctrines 
of  the  gospel,  it  is  right  to  presume  that  these  consti- 
tute an  exception  from  the  general  remark  that  the 
obvious  meaning  is  the  true  meaning ;  and  in  every 
such  case  it  is  probable  that  a  more  attentive  examina- 
tion of  the  passage  in  its  connection  will  disclose  some 
other  sense  than  that  which  lies  most  upon  the  surface, 
which  is  consistent  with  the  general  tenor  of  revealed 
truth. 

The  true  system  of  religion  must  be  adapted  to 
make  men  better.  It  is  impossible  but  that  an  in- 
finitely holy  God  should  desire  that  his  intelligent 
creatures  should  be  holy  ;  and  it  were  absurd  to  sup- 
pose that  he  should  have  given  them  a  system  of  re- 
ligion which  is  not  adapted  to  make  them  so.  Accord- 
ingly, one  grand  argument  for  the  divine  origin  of 
Christianity  is  found  in  the  holiness  of  its  doctrines ; 


168  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

in  the  fact  that  it  exhibits  the  lines  of  moral  purity  in 
such  boldness  and  strength  that  it  could  have  been  no 
other  than  a  heaven-born  system.  If  this  be  so,  it 
follows  that  no  doctrine  which  is  fitted  in  any  way  to 
loosen  the  bands  of  moral  obligation,  or  to  license  any 
of  the  evil  propensities  of  the  heart,  either  directly  or 
indirectly,  can  be  a  genuine  doctrine  of  the  Bible.  It 
is  safe  to  presume  that  that  system  which  fosters  a 
habit  of  indifference  to  practical  godliness,  and  sup- 
plies the  human  heart  with  arguments  for  sinful  indul- 
gence, is  a  system  of  error.  It  is  equally  safe  to  con- 
clude that  that  system  which  makes  men  humble  and 
meek  before  God,  benevolent  and  useful  to  their  fellow- 
creatures,  which  exerts  an  influence,  silent  indeed,  but 
certain  to  bring  up  the  human  character  towards  the 
standard  of  divine  perfection,  is  the  system  which  bears 
the  signature  of  heaven,  and  in  the  practical  reception 
of  which,  men  become  wise  unto  salvation. 

Before  I  close  this  letter,  let  me  urge  you,  in  the 
adoption  of  your  religious  sentiments,  to  keep  in  view 
the  solemnities  of  a  dying  hour.  Nothing  will  be 
more  likely  than  this  to  guard  you  against  fatal  error. 
If  your  opinions  are  formed  not  only  in  the  season  of 
health,  but  with  reference  to  the  continuance  of  health, 
and  of  life,  there  is  great  danger  that  they  will  prove 
to  be  another  gospel,  and  will  be  so  many  thorns  in 
your  dying  pillow.  There  is  danger  that  you  will 
take  up  with  some  wretched  system  of  error ;  which  will 
serve  as  a  present  opiate  to  the  conscience,  but  which 


RELiaiOUS  SENTIMENTS.  109 

will  leave  conscience  to  rise  upon  you  at  last,  when 
yon  can  do  nothing  to  silence  her  accusations.  Bnt  if 
in  all  your  inquiries  for  the  truth,  you  keep  in  view 
tlie  last  hoar  of  yonr  probation ;  and  if,  before  adopt- 
ing any  doctrine  or  system  of  doctrine,  you  ask  your- 
self how  you  will  be  Ukely  to  regard  it  when  the  cur- 
rent of  life  is  ebbing  away — whether  it  will  come  up 
to  your  mind  then  as  a  minister  of  peace  or  a  minister 
of  v/rath  :  I  say,  if  you  deal  thus  honestly  with  your- 
self, you  can  hardly  fail  to  draw  from  the  Bible  those 
precious  truths  which  holy  men  of  God  spoke  as  they 
were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost. 

Commending  you  to  the  guidance  of  God's  Spirit, 
which  is  able  to  make  you  wise  unto  eternal  hfe 
I  remain  your  affectionate 

FATHER. 


170  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTEE. 


LETTER   XIV. 

PROPER  MODE   OF  TREATINa  RELIGIOUS 
ERROR. 

My  dear  Child — Notwithstanding  I  have  advised 
you  to  search  the  Scriptures  as  the  only  infallible 
standard  of  religious  faith,  and  to  admit  no  doctrine 
into  your  creed  merely  upon  human  testimony,  you 
cannot  suppose  that  I  am  indifferent  as  to  the  result  of 
your  religious  inquiries.  I  have  indeed  no  fear,  if  you 
read  the  Bible  vrith  an  honest  heart,  and  with  a  sin- 
cere desire  to  know  the  truth,  that  you  will  fall  into 
any  fundamental  or  dangerous  error :  but  after  all,  it 
must  be  acknowledged,  that  not  a  small  number  of 
those  who  have  made  the  word  of  God  their  constant 
study,  and  have  employed  all  the  power  of  genius,  and. 
all  the  apparatus  of  criticism,  in  their  biblical  pursuits, 
have  given  us  the  result  of  their  labors  in  systems  of 
religion  which  have  nothing  to  sanctify  or  elevate  the 
affections  ;  nothing  to  hush  the  clamors  of  conscience  ; 
nothing  to  illumine  the  cheerlessness  of  affliction,  or 
the  desolation  of  the  grave.  As  the  gospel  is  designed 
to  furnish  the  means  of  restoration  and  salvation  to 


RELIG-IOUS  ERROR.  lU 

ruined  man,  I  am  persuaded,  if  you  examine  it  with  a 
teachable  temper,  that  you  will  find  its  cardinal  doc- 
trines to  be,  atonement  by  the  blood,  and  sanctification 
by  the  Spirit  of  a  divine  Saviour.  All  the  other 
truths  which  it  reveals,  you  will  find  to  be  in  perfect 
consistency  with  these  fundamental  ones ;  making  in 
their  combination  a  system  which,  while  it  brings 
glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  secures  to  the  repenting 
sinner  all,  and  more  than  all  the  blessings  which  sin 
has  forfeited. 

But  if  the  result  of  your  examination  should  be  a 
conviction  that  the  system  to  which  I  have  adverted 
is  that  which  the  gospel  reveals,  you  will  find  that  the 
world  abounds  with  otlier  systems,  some  of  which  have 
scarcely  any  thing  in  common  with  that  which  you 
adopt.  There  is  one  system  which  exhibits  the  gospel 
as  only  the  religion  of  nature  in  a  more  attractive 
dress,  which  pours  contempt  upon  the  impressions  of 
the  awakened  sinner,  and  blots  out  the  precious  doc- 
trine of  atonement,  and  cuts  off  the  only  hope  of  for- 
giveness, and  leaves  the  mind  to  wander  over  a  dark, 
blank  waste,  collecting  as  it  wanders  nothing  but  im- 
pressions of  despair.  There  is  another  system  which 
perverts  the  doctrine  of  redemption,  by  representing 
the  sacrifice  of  Christ  as  cancelling  the  obligations  of 
holy  obedience  ;  substituting  for  that  living  faith  which 
purifies  the  heart  and  controls  the  life,  the  naked  im- 
pression that  Christ  died  for  us  in  particular.  And 
there  is  another  system  still,  which  completely  neu- 


112  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

tralizes  the  most  awful  sanctions  of  our  religion,  which 
represents  all  its  terrors  as  a  fable,  and  throws  wide 
open  the  doors  of  heaven  to  all  the  impenitent  and 
unholy.  And  yet,  after  all,  each  of  these  systems  pro- 
fesses to  bear  the  impress  of  diyinity,  to  be  the  true  and 
genuine  gospel ;  and  their,  respective  advocates  expect 
you  to  hail  them  as  fellow-disciples  of  a  common  Master. 
To  assist  you  to  a  proper  decision  on  this  subject,  let 
me  request  your  attention  to  the  following  hints. 

Make  it  a  rule  never  to  withhold  your  charity  on 
any  slight  or  equivocal  evidence.  To  declare  your 
conviction  that  a  person  holds  another  gospel,  is  a 
thing  of  too  much  moment  to  be  hazarded  on  any 
grounds  which  are  not  the  most  satisfactory.  Better 
far  to  err  on  the  extreme  of  forbearance  than  of  intoler- 
ance. Mild  measures  are  much  better  fitted  to  exert 
a  reclaiming  influence  than  severe  ones.  A  little 
severity  may  place  a  religious  errorist  for  ever  beyond 
your  reach ;  whereas,  a  condescending  treatment  of 
him  may  be  the  means  of  dissipating  his  errors,  and 
establishing  him  in  the  truth. 

Moreover,  I  would  advise  you  never  to  impute  to 
others  doctrines  which  they  disavow,  because  they 
may  appear  to  you  to  form  an  essential  part  of  their 
generah system.  Cheerfully  give  them  credit  for  every 
truth  they  will  acknowledge ;  and  be  very  slow  to 
decide  that  the  connection  between  a  fundamental 
doctrine  and  one  which  is  not  so,  is  so  close  that  the 
latter  may  not  be  given  up  while  the  former  is  with 


RELI&IOUS  ERROH.  173 

some  degree  of  consistency  retained.  The  system  of 
religious  truth  is  indeed  perfectly  harmonious ;  but  its 
parts  are  not  all  equally  important.  It  is  a  structure 
from  which  you  may  remove  some  remote  appendage, 
and  you  will  only  injure  its  proportion,  or  deface  its 
beauty ;  but  take  away  one  of  its  main  pillars,  and 
the  whole  fabric  tumbles  to  ruins. 

Set  it  down  as  a  principle,  therefore,  that  all  minor 
differences  in  religiouS'  opinion  are  to  be  treated  with 
candor  and  lenity.  It  is  a  reproach  to  the  Christian 
cause,  that  the  jealousy  and  intolerance  of  its  professed 
advocates  have  erected  so  many  walls  of  partition  to 
exclude  each  other  from  the  affectionate  interchange 
of  Christian  offices ;  and  it  is  a  fact  upon  which  my 
eye  now  fastens,  as  the  day-star  of  millennial  glory,  that 
the  little  strifes  and  jealousies  which  have  prevailed 
among  different  denominations,  to  the  distraction  of 
the  church,  are  beginning  to  lose  themselves  in  a 
growhig  attachment  to  the  common  cause.  It  is  our 
duty  indeed  to  endeavor  to  reclaim  the  wandering 
from  every  species  of  error ;  but  the  boundary  of  our 
Christian  charity  must  be  nothing  less  than  that  sacred 
Hue  which  encircles  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  the 
gospel.  If  we  deliberately  exclude  from  Christian  fel- 
lowship those  who  hold  the  grand  peculiarities  of  our 
faith,  we  do  it  at  the  peril  of  rejecting  those  whom 
God  has  accepted. 

But  while  I  make  all  these  concessions  in  favor  of 
Catholicism,  far  be  it  from  me  to  leave  an  impression 


174  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER.     - 

on  your  mind,  that  it  were  safe  to  receive  to  the  hal- 
lowed embrace  of  Christian  charity  those  who  reject 
any  of  the  fundamental  truths  of  religion.  With 
Christian  forbearance  in  respect  to  doctrines  that  are 
not  fundamental,  you  must  combine '  Christian  inde- 
pendence with  respect  to  those  that  are ;  and  every 
Christian  ought  to  shrink  from  any  act  which  implies 
indifference  to  the  great  foundation  of  the  gospel 
scheme,  as  he  would  shrink  from  the  guilt  of  betray- 
ing his  Master  with  a  kiss.  Ttie  only  consistent  course 
for  those  who  build  their  hopes  of  heaven  upon  the 
great  truths  of  the  Bible — the  only  course  which  their 
own  principles  will  justify — is  to  take  their  stand  by 
the  cardinal  doctrines  of  the  gospel ;  and  v/hoever  may 
lift  the  standard  of  persecution,  or  whoever  may  chant 
the  praises  of  liberality,  to  guard  these  truths  with 
the  most  sacred  vigilance.  You  may  as  well  think  to 
blend  the  darkest  shades  of  midnight  with  the  blaze 
of  the  noon-day  sun,  without  dissipating  the  gloom  of 
the  one  or  softening  the  radiance  of  the  other,  as  to 
attempt  a  compromise  between  systems  of  religion; 
one  of  which  admits  and  the  other  rejects  the  great 
doctrine  of  redemption  by  the  atoning  blood  and  life- 
giving  Spirit  of  Christ. 

But  notwithstanding  you  are  to  be  decided  in  your 
treatment  of  fundamental  error,  you  should  be  on  your 
guard,  even  in  respect  to  this,  against  every  approach 
to  a  bitter  and  censoiious  spirit.  It  is  not  the  spirit 
which  will  recommend  your  religious  views  to  others, 


RELiaiOUS  ERROR.  ITS 

or  which  can  furnish  to  yourself  any  evidence  of  their 
correctness  from  their  practical  tendency.  Besides,  as 
I  have  already  intimated,  no  person  was  ever  reclaimed 
from  error  by. being  insulted  or  reproached  ;  but  not  a 
few  have,  by  such  a  course,  been  steeled  against  con- 
viction and  driven  to  the  extreme  of  heresy.  The 
person  whom  you  may  not  be  able  to  recognize  as  a 
Christian,  you  may  still  treat  with  the  kindness  and 
courtesy  of  a  friend  :  you  may  mingle  with  him  in  the 
kind  offices  and  charities  of  life :  you  mfjy  cautiously 
avoid  reproaching  him  with  his  errors :  you  may  go, 
like  an  angel  of  mercy,  to  his  sick-bed ;  and  you  may 
keep  him  constantly  under  the  influence  of  your  gentle 
and  winning  deportment ;  and  who  knows  but  that,  in 
this  way,  you  may  save  a  soul  from  death  and  hide  a 
multitude  of  sins  ? 

I  will  only  detain  you  farther  on  this  subject  with 
one  word  relative  to  religious  controversy.  I  am 
willing  you  should  acquire  much  theological  know- 
ledge, and  I  will  not  say  that  circumstances  may  never 
occur,  in  which  it  may  be  proper  for  you  to  use  it  in 
defence  of  the  truths  of  the  gospel ;  but  I  beg  that 
nothing  may  ever  tempt  you  needlessly  to  enlist  in  any 
-  religious  dispute.  When  a  woman  takes  up  the 
weapons  of  theological  warfare,  unless  at  the  impera- 
tive call  of  duty,  the  native  loveliness  of  female  charac- 
ter is  instantly  eclipsed.  The  modest  and  retiring 
virtues,  which  are  the  peculiar  ornament  of  your  sex, 
can  never  find  a  place  amidst  the  din  and  clashing  of 


1*16  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

religious  combatants.  It  was  my  lot,  not  long  since, 
to  encounter  a  sturdy  female  polemic  in  a  stage-coach  ; 
and  I  must  confess  that,  after  a  little  while,  she  suc- 
ceeded in  driving  me  effectually  from  the  field — not 
because  I  was  apprehensive  of  being  crushed  by  the 
weight  of  her  arguments,  but  because,  when  I  came 
to  reflect,  it  cost  me  less  mortification  to  yield  to  her 
the  honor  of  an  apparent  triumph,  than  to  keep  the 
attitude  which  I  had  incautiously  taken  of  discussing 
the  most  momentous  of  all  subjects,  in  such  circum- 
stances, with  a  talking  female,  whose  element  was 
controversy.  I  confidently  trust  that'  the  time  will 
never  come  when  the  cause  of  truth  will  require  the 
polemic  influence  of  females ;  and  until  that  time,  I 
hope  you  will  be  contented  to  leave  the  business  of 
controversy  in  other  hands. 

I  have  dwelt  thus  minutely  on  the  several  points 
involved  in  the  subject  of  this  letter,  not  from  a  con- 
viction that  they  would  all  be  of  the  same  importance 
to  you  as  they  might  be  to  a  minister  of  the  gospel, 
but  because  I  wish  you,  on  every  subject  connected 
with  practical  life,  to  have  some  fixed  principles,  which 
will  always  be  ready  for  application. 

That  you  may  combine  that  charity  which  ''  suffereth 
long  and  is  kind,"  with  that  dignified  Christian  inde- 
pendence which  ''holds  fast  the  form  of  sound  words," 
is  the  earnest  wish  of 

Your  affectionate 
r  FATHER. 


PRACTICAL  RELiaiON.  11^ 


-^ 


LETTER   XV. 

PRACTICAL  RELiaiOK. 


My  dkar  Child — In  a  preceding  letter  I  have  en- 
deavered  to  impress  you  with  the  importance  of  correct 
views  of  the  great  truths  of  religion.  Such  views  un- 
questionably lie  at  the  foundation  of  every  right  exer- 
cise of  the  affections,  and  of  whatever  is  truly  good  in 
the  life.  Nevertheless,  correct  opinions  are  iii  them- 
selves of  comparatively  little  importance,  unless  they 
are  suffered  to  exert  their  legitimate  influence  in  fornj- 
ing  and  elevating  the  character.  You  may  have  *'all 
knowledge  and  all  faith  ;"  you  may  be  unwavering  in 
your  conviction  of  the  truth,  and  even  be  able  to  con- 
found gainsayers  ;  dud  yet,  if  in  all  this  there  be  nothing 
that  reaches  the  heart  and  influences  the  conduct,  your 
character  in  the  eye  of  God  is  but  little  removed  from 
that  of  an  unbeUever.  You  may  indeed  pass  for  a 
Christian  with  the  world,  or  at  least  with  the  undis- 
cerning  part  of  it,  and  possibly  you  may  imagine  your- 
self one;  but  the  hour  of  affliction,  and  the  hour  of 
death,  and  above  all,  the  light  of  eternity,  which  will 

L«t.  toDwgh.  12 


178  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

put  your  Christianity  to  the  test,  will  prove  it  to  be  a 
mere  name — an  inefficient  speculation,  not  a  practical 
and  sustaining  principle. 

I  have  said  that  practical  religion  has  its  beginning 
in  the  understanding.  Religious  truth  being  appre- 
hended by  the  mind,  spreads  its  influence  over  the 
affections,  and  through  them  that  influence  is  carried 
out  into  every  department  of  action.  There  is  no 
mystery  in  all  this,  no  departure  from  the  common 
operation  of  the  principles  of  human  nature ;  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  conformed  to  all  the  analogies  of  expe- 
rience. You  believe  that  a  beloved  friend  is  wander- 
ing unconsciously  on  the  verge  of  a  precipice,  and  lia- 
ble every  moment  to  an  irrecoverable  and  fatal  plunge. 
This  conviction  operates  irresistibly  upon  your  affec- 
tions, stirring  up  in  your  bosom  the  deepest  compassion 
and  anxiety.  And  these  same  feelings  which  cause 
your  heart  to  throb  on  account  of  the  danger  of  your 
friend,  will  lead  you  to  rush  towards  the  fearful  preci- 
pice, and  admonish  your  friend  of  her  perilous  circum- 
stances ;  and  if  need  be,  even  to  lay  hold  of  her,  and 
rescue  her  from  destruction.  Now  this  is  a  fair  illus- 
tration of  what  I  mean  by  practical  religion.  You 
read  in  the  Bible,  and  your  own  conscience  certifies 
you  of  the  fact,  that  you  are  a  sinner ;  and  you  read 
that  God  has  given  his  Son  to  die  for  your  redemp- 
tion ;  and  that  in  virtue  of  that  redemption  the  horrors 
of  hell  may  be  escaped,  and  the  glories  of  heaven 
attained    These  truths  you  intelligently  believe ;  and 


PRACTICAL  RELiaiON.  119 

the  first  effect  of  this  belief  is  upon  the  affections — to 
induce  humility,  and  penitence,  and  gratitude ;  and 
these  cannot  remain  dormant,  but  must  have  their 
operation  in  the  life,  in  producing  obedience  to  all 
God^s  commandments.  I  ask  again,  is  any  thing  more 
simple,  more  intelligible,  more  rational  than  this? 
And  yet  this  is  practical  religion — the  Christianity, 
not  of  the  understanding  only,  but  especially  of  the 
heart  and  life. 

It  is  important  here  to  remark,  that  it  belongs  to 
genuine  practical  religion  to  control  alike  the  affections 
and  the  external  conduct.  There  are  those  who  will 
have  it  that  to  be  religious  is  merely  to  be  susceptible 
of  a  warm  glow  of  feeling ;  to  be  able  to  weep  pro- 
fusely under  the  solemn  and  affecting  truths  of  the 
gospel,  and  to  talk  with  fervor  and  sensibility  of  the 
progress  or  the  decline  of  religion  around  them  ;  while 
the  every-day  duties  of  the  Christian  life,  which  require 
action  as  well  as  feeling,  are  unhappily  regarded  as 
not  among  the  weightier  matters  of  the  law.  And 
there  are  those,  on  the  other  hand,  who  seem  willing 
to  have  their  hands  put  in  requisition,  while  yet  they 
practically  claim  a  dispensation  for  the  heart ;  who 
cheerfully  perform  every  deed  of  justice  and  charity 
which  devolves  upon  them  in  their  intercourse  with 
their  fellow-men,  and  are  even  models  of  external 
morality,  who  nevertheless  seem  to  regard  repentance 
and  faith  and  devotion  as  works  of  supererogation — at 
least,  as  not  being  essential  to  the  religious  character. 


180  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

Now  both  these  classes  are  equally  in  a  mistake. 
Practical  religion  does  not  assert  its  claims  exclusively 
either  over  the  heart  or  the  life,  but  alike  over  both. 
The  truths  which  you  believe  must  exert  their  influence 
in  the  production  of  holy  affections ;  and  those  affec- 
tions must  exert  their  influence  in  leading  to  a  holy 
life.  If  you  make  your  religion  consist  merely  in  feel- 
ing, or  merely  in  action,  it  is  at  best  a  partial  religion, 
and  will  never  answer  the  great  purpose  of  your 
acceptance  with  God. 

It  is  a  consideration  not  to  be  overlooked  in  con- 
nection with  this  subject,  that  practical  religion  never 
exists  independently  of  the  operation  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Such  is  the  natural  perverseness  of  the  heart 
that  it  never  yields  up  its  rebellion,  and  becomes  trans- 
formed into  the  divine  likeness,  until  it  is  wrought  upon 
by  the  almighty  agency  of  God.  But  this  agency, 
let  it  always  be  remembered,  is  of  such  a  character 
as  not  to  supersede,  but  to  involve  the  exercise  of  the 
human  faculties.  Notwithstanding  it  is  sovereign  in 
its  nature,  for  the  very  idea  of  salvation  by  grace  im- 
plies sovereignty,  it  is  in  perfect  accordance  with  all 
the  laws  of  moral  action ;  so  that  the  sinner  actually 
makes  his  very  highest  efforts  precisely  at  the  time 
when  he  is  the  subject  of  the  most  powerful  divine 
agency.  The  moral  actions  he  performs  at  the  period 
of  his  transformation  into  the  divine  image,  are  as 
truly  his  own  as  if  he  were  in  every  sense  an  indepen- 
dent agent ; "  and  yet  God  works  as  really,  though  not 


PRACTICAL  RELiaiON.  181 

in  the  same  manner,  as  he  did  in  the  original  creation. 
This  is  the  uniform  doctrine  of  Scripture  ;  and  perhaps 
there  is  no  single  passage  in  which  it  is  more  clearly 
contained,  than  that  in  which  the  apostle  exhorts  the 
Christians,  to  whom  he  was  writing,  to  work  out  their 
own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,  giving  it  as  a 
reason  that  it  was  God  who  worked  within  them  both 
to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure. 

But  you  will  ask,  perhaps,  whether  there  is  not  here 
something  of  mystery  ;  and  will  inquire  for  an  explana- 
tion of  this  coiacidence ,  between  the  agency  of  the 
Creator  and  the  agency  of  the  creature,  in  the  pro- 
duction of  this  wonderful  result.  I  answer  unhesitat- 
ingly, that  I  know  nothing  on  this  subject,  and  expect 
to  know  nothing  in  this  world  beyond  the  simple 
fact.  That  it  is  so  is  amply  proved,  not  only  by  Scrip- 
ture,' but  by  experience  ;  but  how  it  is  so,  is  a  problem 
which,  to  say  the  least,  must  be  reserved  to  exercise 
the  faculties  in  a  higher  state  of  existence.  To  reject 
a  fact  of  which  we  have  all  the  evidence  of  which  it  is  . 
susceptible,  merely  because  we  cannot  explain  every 
thing  that  is  connected  with  it,  were  certainly  the 
height  of  infatuation.  Upon  this  principle  we  should 
resign  ourselves  to  a  universal  scepticism ;  for  what 
object  is  there  in  nature  which,  when  subjected  to  a 
rigid  examination,  does  not  present  mysteries  before 
which  the  highest  human  reason  must  own. itself  con- 
founded ? 

Practical  religion  is  begun  and  sustained  through 


182  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 

the  influence  of  the  truth — the  doctrines  and  precepts 
of  the  Bible.  Whether  they  are  contemplated  in  the 
closet  or  listened  to  from  the  pulpit,  the  Holy  Spirit 
uses  them  as  the  great  means  of  cherishing  good  affec- 
tions, and  of  giving  a  right  direction  to  the  conduct. 
The  dispensations  of  Providence  also,  by  being  intelli- 
gently and  seriously  contemplated,  are  rendered  sub- 
servient to  the  same  end.  Whether  the  heart  be 
lacerated  by  affliction,  or  permitted  to  rejoice  in  pros- 
perity, it  is  the  purpose  of  God,  in  either  case,  to  add 
stability  and  vigor  to  the  principle  of  religion.  And 
if  this  result  be  not  realized  from  the  means  of  grace 
and  the  dispensations  of  Providence,  it  were  in  vain 
to  expect  that  it  should  be  realized  at  all. 

It  is  an  interesting  attribute  of  practical  religion, 
that  it  retains  a  perfect  identity  of  character  in  every 
variety  of  circumstances.  I  do  not  mean  that  it  con- 
founds all  the  distinctions  of  society,  for  such  God 
never  intended  should  be  its  effect ;  but  it  does,  in  the 
most  important  sense,  lay  a  foundation  for  a  com- 
munity of  interest  and  feeling.  It  conforms  the  human 
character  everywhere  to  the  same  standard.  Every- 
where it  is  accompanied  by  the  same  joys  and  sorrows, 
the  same  fears  and  hopes  and  aspirations.  You  may 
bring  together  persons  from  the  most  opposite  walks 
of  society,  and  if  you  please  from  opposite  sides  of  the 
globe — ^persons  whose  feelings  and  habits  on  other 
subjects  have  little  or  nothing  in  common,  and  let  each 
of  them  have  a  principle  of  genuine  religion,  and  if 


PRACTICAL  RELiaiON.  188 

they  speak  the  same  language  they  will  recognize  each 
other  as  brethren,  and  they  will  be  able  to  report  a 
common  experience,  and  the  same  spirit  of  love,  to 
Christ,  and  love  to  each  other,  and  love  to  their  fellow- 
men  will  glow  in  th«  bosom  of  each,  and  they  will  be 
looking  forward  alike  to  heaven  as  their  final  home. 
The  most  cultivated  mind,  and  the  most  uncultivated, 
may  be  brought  together,  and  supposing  both  to  be 
deeply  imbued  with  genuine  religion,  they  will  feel  at 
home  in  each  other's  society ;  there  will  be  one  point, 
though  there  be  only  one,  at  which  they  can  meet  on 
the  same  level,  and  hold  intelligent  and  delightful  com- 
munion. 

It  is  another  attribute  of  practical  religion,  that  it 
is  enduring.  Who  does  not  know  how  fugitive  and 
uncertain  are  the  possessions  of  the  world  ;  how  riches 
take  to  themselves  wings  and  fly  away  ;  how  the  voice 
of  human  applause  is  often  changed,  almost  in  an 
instant,  into  the  voice  of  execration;  how  pleasure 
turns  into  pain  in  the  very  moment  of  enjoyment ; 
how  even  natural  affection  itself  will  grow  cold  and 
shy,  and  finally  give  place  to  deep-rooted  enmity  and 
bitter  resentment.  But  not  so  with  religion.  Let  the 
change  of  external  circumstances  be  what  it  may,  let 
the  fate  of  other  possessions  be  as  it  will,  this  is  sure 
to  remain  through  every  vicissitude.  A  principle  of 
religion,  once  implanted  in  the  heart,  can  never  be 
eradicated,  and  can  never  cease  to  exert  its  influence. 
It  will  live  in  every  clune ;  it  will  survive  every 


184  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

calamity  ;  and  it  will  brighten  into  a  higher  and  holier 
perfection  in  better  worlds. 

But  not  only  is  practical  religion  something  that  will 
endure,  but  it  is  something  which,  even  here,  is  des- 
tined to  increase.  The  principle  when  first  implanted 
in  the  heart  is  indeed  feeble  in  its  operations ;  and  if 
we  were  to  form  our  opinion  without  the  aid  of  expe- 
rience, and  without  recourse  to  the  divine  testimony, 
we  should  decide  unhesitatingly  that  there  was  little 
reason  to  expect  that  this  principle  could  ever  reach  a 
full  and  strong  maturity.  But  it  is  the  ordinance  of 
God  that  it  should  be  so ;  and  the  truth  is  .illustrated 
and  confirmed  by  every  Christian's  experience.  There 
may  indeed  be  seasons  of  occasional  declension,  and 
there  may  be  seasons  of  so  much  darkness  as  to  create 
the  most  painful  apprehension  that  the  heart  has  never 
yet  practically  recognized  the  claims  of  religion  ;  never- 
theless, on  the  whole,  there  is  a  constant  progress  in 
the  Christian's  experience':  though  his  steps  may  be 
feeble  and  faltering,  he  is  still  gradually  rising  towards 
perfection,  gradually  gaining  new  victories  over  in- 
dwelling corruption,  enlarging  the  sphere  of  his  be- 
nevolent activity,  and  coming  nearer  and  nearer  the 
standard  of  perfect  holiness.  It  is  said  by  an  inspired 
writer,  with  equal  truth  and  beauty,  that  ''the  path 
of  the  just  is  as  the  shining  light,  that  shineth  more 
and  more  unto  the  perfect  day." 

There  are  two  distinct  views  in  which  we  may  re- 
gard practical  religion,  as  it  stands  connected  with  the 


PEACTICAL  RELiaiON.  185 

trials ^of  life:  as  triumphing  over  them,  and  yet  as 
being  advanced  and  strengthened  by  them.  When 
you  talk  of  human  suffering,  there  is  a  chord  in  every 
bosom  that  vibrates  in  a  response  to  the  truth  of  what 
you  say.  The  trials  of  mankind  are  indeed  almost 
infinitely  diversified  ;  there  are  scarcely  two  individuals 
whose  cup  of  sorrow  is  composed  of  precisely  the  same 
ingredients;  but  there  is  not  a  solitary  individual 
whose  personal  experience  does  not  furnish  ample  testi- 
mony that  this  world  is  a  vale  of  tears.  There  are 
those,  it  may  be,  who  to  the  surrounding  world  always 
bear  a  cheerful  aspect,  and  who  might  almost  leave 
an  impression,  by  the  uniform  gladness  of  the  counte- 
nance, that  the  sorrows  of  life  had  never  invaded  their 
hearts.  But  if  you  could  know  all  that  passes  within — 
if  you  could,  even  for  a  single  week,  have  access  to 
every  secret  thought  and  feelings  you  would  no  doubt 
find,  that  though  the  countenance  seemed  always  to 
beam  with  joy,  yet  the  heart  was  often  overburdened 
with  sadness.  There  are  comparatively  few  who  do 
not,  at  some  time  or  other,  become  the  objects  of 
sympathy  from  being  openly  buffeted  by  the  storms  of 
adversity  ;  but  there  are  few  too  who  do  not  experi- 
ence trials,  and  sometimes  those  which  bring  mto  the 
heart  the  keenest  anguish,  of  which  the  world  knows 
nothing.  Now  I  say  with  confidence,  that  practical 
religion  confers  upon  its  possessor  a  glorious  triumph 
amidst  the  sorrows  of  life.  Suppose  poverty  come 
with  its  train  of  calamities ;  or  suppose  detraction 


186  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

point  its  barbed  arrows  against  a  blameless  character ; 
or  suppose  bereavement  cast  a  withering  shade  upon 
the  best  earthly  hopes  and  joys ;  or  suppose  disease, 
which  mocks  the  highest  efforts  both  of  friendship  and 
of  skill,  impress  itself  upon  the  countenance  and  make 
its  lodgement  in  the  very  seat  of  life ;  or  suppose,  if 
you  please,  that  this  whole  tribe  of  evils  come  march- 
ing in  fearful  ai*ray  to  assail  an  individual  at  once,  I 
am  sure  that  I  do  not  say  too  much  for  practical  re- 
ligion, when  I  declare  to  you  that  it  will  enable  its 
possessor  to  meet  them  all  in  serenity  and  triumph. 
To  do  this  must  require  a  high  effort  of  faith,  I  acknow- 
ledge ;  but  only  such  an  effort  as  Has  been  exemplified 
in  the  experience  of  thousands.  Oh,  when  I  have 
stood  amidst-  such  scenes,  and  witnessed  the  sweet 
aspirations  of  hope,  and  seen  the  bright  beams  of  joy 
irradiate  the  countenance  over  which  sorrow  had 
thrown  her  deepest  shades,  just  as  the  bow  casts  its 
brilliant  hues  upon  the  dark  cloud  in  the  going  down 
of  the  sun,  I  have  looked  upon  religion  as  a  bright 
angel  come  down  from  heaven  to  exercise  a  sovereign 
influence  over  human  calamity  ;  and  if  I  have  formed 
a  wish  or  offered  a  prayer  in  respect  to  you  at  such  a 
moment,  it  has  been  that  this  good  angel  may  be  your 
■  constant  attendant  through  this  vale  of  tears. 

But  while  there  is  'an  energy  in  religion  to  sustain 
the  soul  amidst  the  calamities  of  life,  this  energy, 
instead  of  being  lessened,  is  increased  by  the  influence 
of  these  calamities.     Let  religion  emerge  from  a  scene 


PRACTICAL  UELiaiON.  187 

in  which  she  has  kept  some  child  of  distress  from  sink- 
ing in  the  deep  waters,  or  in  which  she  has  bound  up 
some  heart  that  has  been  smitten  by  the  rod  of  God, 
and  you  shall  see  her  more  healthful  and  vigorous  for 
having  performed  these  offices  of  mercy.  In  other 
words,  nothing  is  so  well  adapted  to  purify  and  brighten 
the  Christian  graces  as  the  furnace  of  affliction.  And 
hence,  we  look  for  the  noblest  specimens  of  Christian 
attainment,  not  among  those  who  have  been  always 
surrounded  with  the  sunshine  of  prosperity,  but  among 
those  who  have  had  to  struggle  hard  with  the  calami- 
ties of  the  world.  Not  every  one,  not  even  every 
Christian,  whose  lot  is  peculiarly  marked  by  adversity, 
experiences,  at  least  in  the  degree  which  he  might,  the 
benign  effects  of  which  I  have  spoken  ;  but  the  reason 
is,  that  he  does  not  receive  his  afflictions  with  a  right 
spirit :  every  Christian  who  is  severely- tried,  may  and 
ought  to  be  the  better  for  it ;  and  if  he  is  not  so,  I  do 
not  say  that  he  may  not  be  saved,  but  let  him  take 
heed  lest  it  sliould  be  so  as  by  fire. 

1  have  spoken  of  the  triumph  of  religion  in  affliction, 
but  she  triumphs  still  more  gloriously  in  death.  Yes, 
in  that  hour,  when  the  clustering  symptoms  of  dissolu- 
tion proclaim  that  all  is  over ;  when  friends  sit  down 
and  weep  in  silence,  because  they  have  done  every 
thing,  and  yet  the  beloved  object  must  die;  when" 
there  is  nothing  now  thought  of,  either  by  the  dying 
or  the  mourning,  but  the  winding-sheet,  and  the  grave, 
and  the  region  that  lies  beyond  it :  I  say,  in  that  hour, 


188  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUOHTER. 

dark  "and  portentous  and  terrible  as  it  seems,  religion 
still  triumphs.  You  may  trace  her  footsteps  amid 
that  scene  of  desolation  in  expressions  of  hope  and 
peace  and  joy,  and  not  unfrequently  in  the  serene  and 
seraphic  smile  which  she  has  left  upon  the  countenance, 
after  she  has  ascended  with  the  spirit  to  a  brighter 
world.  Infidelity  may  be  brave  in  life,  but  she  is  a 
coward  in  death.  True  religion  is  never  more  cour- 
ageous than  when  she  is  acting  as  a  guide  in  the  dark 
valley— when  with  one  hand  she  opens  the  door  of  the 
sepulchre,  as  a  safe  though  temporary  resting-place  for 
the  body,  and  with  the  other,  the  gate  of  the  heavenly 
city,  as  the  everlasting  residence  of  the  soul. 

There  is  still  more  to  be  said  for  religion,  for  her 
noblest  triumph  is  in  eternity.  In  the  religion  of  the 
heart  and  life,  as  it  exists  here,  there  is  the  germ  of 
that  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory  which  is 
to  be  the  Christian's  portion  hereafter.  Let  no  one 
talk  of  the  brilliancy  of  an  earthly  crown,  when  com- 
pared with  the  immortal  splendors  of  a  crown  of  life. 
Let  no  one  value  earthly  treasures,  when  compared 
with  the  incorruptible  treasures  which  religion  secures 
at  God's  right  hand.  Let  no  one  set  a  high  estimate 
upon  the  intercourse  of  earthly  friendship,  when  viewed 
in  comparison  with  an  everlasting  communion  with  the 
spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect,  and  with  the  angels 
that  burn  before  the  throne,  and  even  with  the  infinitely 
perfect  and  redeeming  God.  When  we  speak  of  the 
joys  of  heaven,  we  speak  of  that,  the  full  extent  of 


PRACTICAL  RELiaiON.  189 

which  it  hath  not  entered  the  heart  of  man 'to  conceive. 
It  is  in  that  world  that  rehgion  will  sit  enthroned,  in 
the  majesty  of  a  benign  and  perpetual  triumph. 

I  have  rarely  seen  the  legitimate  operations  of  true 
religion  in  forming  the  character  so  sublimely  exempli- 
fied, as  in  the  case  of  a  reverend  friend,  whom  not 
many  years  ago  I  followed  to  the  grave.  He  was  a 
man  upon  whom  nature  had  bountifully  bestowed  her 
choicest  gifts,"  and  who  combined  every  intellectual 
and  moral  quality  which  was  necessary  to  stamp  upon 
his  character  the  seal  of  greatness.  But  above  all,  he 
was  a  practical  Christian.  I  knew  him  when  his  locks 
were  silvered  with  years,  and  his  eyes  were  dim  with 
age,  and  his  limbs  tottered  beneath  their  burden.  On 
his  furrowed  cheek  sat  the  smile  of  contentment,  the 
living  image  of  peace  and  joy.  He  could  hardly  open 
his  lips  but  in  some  expression  of  penitence  for  his 
sins,  or  of  thankfulness  for  his  mercies.  While  he  was 
cheerful  in  the  enjoyment  of  temporal  blessings,  the 
eye  of  faith  and  hope  was  fixed  on  heaven.  I  saw  him 
when  the  impressions  of  disease  had  fastened  upon  his 
countenance  ;  when  the  symptoms  of  dissolution  were 
advancing  in  slow  but  certain  progress,  and  when 
eternity  was  opening  its  doors  to  receive  his  almost 
disenthralled  spirit.  I  watched  him  to  see  if  I  could 
discover  a  symptom  of  terror  or  agitation,  any  thing 
like  the  shrinking  back  of  the  soul  from  the  grasp  of 
death :  but  all  was  calmness  and  triumph.  Just  as 
he  had  reached  the  boundary  between  earth  and 


100 


LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER, 


heaven,  I  said,  ''Mj  father,  art  thou  dying  in  peace?" 
and  his  animated  expression  told  me  that  the  songs  of 
seraphs  were  already  trembling  on  his  ear.  His  dying 
eye  shot  forth  a  beam  of  rapture,  and  told  in  language 
more  than  mortal,  the  vigor  of  a  spirit  on  the  wing  for 
immortality.  Never  before  did  I  behold  Christianity 
march  with  so  much  triumph  into  the  territories  of 
death.  The  scene  is  imprinted  upon  my  memory,  and 
I  wouldirfain  carry  the  impression  of  it  to  the  grave. 
'    ^  Your  affectionate 

FATHER. 


SELF-KNO-WLEDaE.  191 


LETTER   XVI. 

SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 

My  dear  Child — I  have  already  endeavored  to 
inculcate  upon  you  the  importance  of  your  becoming 
a  proficient  in  various  branches  of  useful  knowledge. 
There  is,  however,  one  branch  of  which  I  have  hitherto 
said  nothing,  which  is  incomparably  more  important 
to  you  than  all  human  science — I  mean  the  knowledge 
of  yourself.  To  this  deeply  interesting  subject  suffer 
me  now,  in  a  few  brief  hints,  to  direct  your  attention. 

In  self-knowledge  I  include,  in  the  first  place,  a 
knowledge  of  your  intellectual  powers.  It  imphes 
that  you  understand  the  particular  bent  of  your  own 
mind  ;  in  which  of  the  faculties,  if  any,  you  are  espe- 
cially deficient,  and  in  which  of  them,  if  any,  you  are 
particularly  gifted  ;  whether  there  is  a  good  degree  of 
harmony  naturally  pervading  the  powers  of  your  mind, 
or  whether  there  is  reason  for  special  effort  to  give  to 
those  powers  their  due  balance.  It  implies  also  that 
you  understand  for  what  department  of  mental  action 
your  constitution  is  best  adapted,  and  in  what  field 
your  efforts  will  be  most  likely  to  be  successful. 


192  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

In  the  knowledge  of  which  I  am  speakmg  there  is 
also  included  an  acquaintance  with  your  moral  dis^ 
positions.  There  is  perhaps  as  great  a  variety  of 
temper  among  mankind,  as  of  countenance ;  there 
being  scarcely  two  individuals  whose  natural  feelings, 
when  subjected  to  a  rigid  analysis^,  are  not  found  to 
be,  in  some  respects,  different.  These  original  quali- 
ties constitute,  in  a  great  degree,  the  germ  of  the 
character ;  and  in  most  instances,  whatever  good  or 
evil  is  accomplished,  whatever  happiness  or  misery  is 
experienced,  no  doubt  is  to  be  traced,  either  directly 
or  iftdirectly,  to  the  leading  tendencies  of  our  nature. 
With  these  tendencies,  as  it  respects  yourself,  you 
should  be  famiharly  acquainted :  you  should  know 
what  evil  dispositions  you  are  most  'prone  to  indulge  ; 
at  w^hat  point  you  are  most  susceptible  of  being  suc- 
cessfully assailed  by  temptation ;  and  at  what  point 
you  are  capable  of  encountering  temptation  with  the 
best  hope  of  success. 

In  self-knowledge  is  further  implied  a  knowledge  of 
your  conduct.  It  would  seem  at  first  view  that  every 
individual  must  know  this  as  it  respects  himself,  whether 
he  desires  it  or  not ;  but  the  real  fact  is,  that  there  is 
much  in  the  conduct  of  most  persons,  of  which,  though 
it  be  perfectly  open  to  the  world,  they  contrive  to  keep 
themselves  in  ignorance.  Not  that  they  are  uncon- 
scious of  their  actions  as  they  perform  them  ;  but  they 
suffer  them  to  pass  out  of  remembrance,  and  never 
make  them  a  subject  of  deliberate  review,  and  still  less 


SELF-KNOWLEDaE.  193 

do  they  think  of  connecting  them  with  each  other  with 
a  view  to  ascertain  the  habit  of  their  hfe.  If  you 
would  know  yourself,  you  must  be  familiar  with  the 
tenor  of  your  conduct  from  day  to  day — of  your  con- 
duct in  all  the  circumstances  in  which  you  are  placed, 
and  in  all  the  relations  which  you  sustain.  Whether 
it  be  such  as  conscience  approves  or  condemns,  it  must 
not  be  suifered  to  escape  your  observation,  or  to  slide 
prematurely  out  of  your  remembrance. 

You  must  know  your  motives  also — the  principles 
by  which  your  conduct  is  governed.  Not  only  the 
general  habit  of  feeling,  but  the  particular  motives 
which  prompt  to  particular  actions,  should  be  well 
understood  ;  for  it  is  possible,  that  many  an  action 
which  with  the  world  passes  for  a  splendid  deed  of 
benevolence,  may,  with  Him  who  inspects  the  motive, 
be  nothing  better  than  an  act  of  gross  hypocrisy  ;  and 
on  the  other  hand,  that  actions  which  to  the  world 
bear  a  suspicious  character,  may,  to  the  Searcher  of 
the  heart  appear  praiseworthy  and  excellent.  In 
short,  every  action  derives  its  moral  character,  not 
from  the  external  form  which  it  may  happen  to  assume, 
but  from  the  motive  by  which  it  is  dictated.  If  you 
are  ignorant  of  the  motive  then,  your  ignorance  is 
radical.  If  you  do  not  know  this,  you  probably  know 
less  of  yourself  than  those  who  have  an  opportunity  of 
inspecting  only  your  external  conduct. 

It  is  necessary,  further,  that  you  should  understand 
your  true  character  as  a  sinner  before  God,  though 

Let.  to  Dangh.  1 3 


194  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

this  may  be  considered  as  in  some  sense  implied  in  the 
knowledge  of  your  external  conduct  in  connection  with 
the  motives  in  which  it  originates.  The  knowledge  of 
sin — of  one's  personal  sins — of  their  extent  and  aggra- 
vation, is  obtained  only  by  a  practical  view  of  the  law 
of  God  and  of  the  atonement  of  Christ ;  and  until  this 
is  gained,  every  other  species  even  of  self-knowledge 
will  be  to  nttle  purpose  in  the  concern  of  our  salvation. 
This  is  a  point  at  which,  alas,  the  great  mass  of  man- 
kind are  contented  to  end  their  inquiries.  They  are 
not  willing  to  look  far  enough  to  ascertain  whether 
the  scriptural  doctrine  of  depravity  is  true  in  their 
own  experience,  or  not ;  and  hence  they  remain  volun- 
tarily and  fearfully  ignorant  both  of  their  guilt  and 
their  danger. 

You  must  know,  moreover,  as  a  disciple  of  Christ, 
what  are  the  sins  which  most  easily  beset  you ;  in 
what  way  you  are  most  likely  to  bring  a  reproach 
upon  the  Redeemer's  cause  ;  what  means  you  can  use 
with  tlie  best  effect  to  increase  your  spiritual  sensi- 
bility, your  zeal  and  self-denial  and  steadfastness  in 
religion.  You  must  know  your  daily  spiritual  wants ; 
the  various  exigencies  for  which  you  need  God's  special 
grace,  and  the  various  channels  through  which  light 
and  hope  and  joy  may  be  imparted.  You  must  know 
how  to  bring  home  to  your  heart  the  precious  promises 
of  the  gospel,  adapting  them  to  different  circumstances, 
and  finding  in  each  of  them  a  means  of  sustaining  you 
in  adversity,  of  quickening  you  in  duty,  or  of  protecting 


SELF-KNOWLEDaE.  195 

you  from  the  shafts  of  temptation.  You  must  know 
the  various  duties  which  devolve  upon  you  in  the  dif- 
ferent relations  of  life — ^dut^es  which  you  owe  both  to 
God  and  man  ;  and  the  momentous  considerations  by 
which  these  duties  are  enforced.  In  a  word,  whatever 
relates  to  your  character  as  an  intellectual,  moral,  or 
immortal  being,  you  ought  distinctly  to  understand ; 
and  the  whole  extent  of  this  enters  into  the  true  idea 
of  self-knowledge. 

The  importance  of  self-knowledge  may  be  evinced 
by  a  great  variety  of  considerations.  That  branch  of 
it  which  consists  in  the  knowledge  of  our  sins  is  an 
essential  requisite  to  our  acceptance  with  God ;  for  as 
mankind  are  saved  wholly  by  grace,  they  must  feel 
the  reasonableness  of  the  terms  before  they  will  accept 
them ;  and  this  they  can  never  do  until  they  are 
thoroughly  convinced  of  their  own  depravity.  No 
doubt  most  of  those  great  errors  which  sap  the  founda- 
tion of  the  gospel  originate  in  the  want  of  self-know- 
ledge. Men,  from  ignorance  of  their  own  hearts, 
and  consequent  ignorance  of  their  own  wants,  devise 
schemes  of  religion  which  overlook  the  necessity  of  an 
atonement,  or  the  necessity  of  a  divine  influence  ;  and 
leave  man  in  the  pride  of  self-confidence  to  work  his 
own  way  to  heaven,  with  little  or  nothing  of  divine 
interposition.  Hence,  we  find  that  whenever  any  of 
these  refuges  of  lies  are  abandoned,,  the  first  step  in 
the  process  is  usually  a  change  of  views  in  respect  to 
the  human  character ;  and  the  same  fact  takes  place 


196  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

previous  to  every  genuine  conversion.  It  is  the  con- 
viction of  guilt  and  danger  that  leads  to  the  first 
efibrts  to  escape  from  the  wrath  to  come. 

But  self-knowledge  is  important,  as  it  is  connected 
not  only  with  the  beginning,  but  with  the  progress  of 
religion  in  the  heart.  It  is  essential  to  keeping  alive 
the  various  Christian  graces.  It  is  one  of  the  primary 
elements  of  humility ;  for  it  is  impossible  that  the 
Christian  should  be  deeply  conversant  with  his  own 
corruptions,  without  being  abased  before  God  in  view 
of  them.  It  is  fitted  to  cherish  a  spirit  of  dependence  ; 
for  he  who  knows  his  own  weakness  will  feel  the  need 
of  being  strengthened  from  on  high ;  and  he  who 
knows  the  wanderings  of  his  own  heart,  will  regard  it 
a  blessed  privilege  to  yield  himself  up  to  an  all-wise 
and  all-gracious  Guide.  It  has  a  tendency  to  bring 
into  exercise  a  spirit  of  gratitude  ;  for  he  who  knows 
himself,  knows  that  it  is  matchless  grace  that  triumphs 
over  the  rebellion  of  the  heart.  It  serves  to  awaken 
and  keep  alive  a  spirit  of  compassion  towards  those 
who  are  indifi'erent  to  religion ;  for  he  who  has  seen 
his  own  heart  in  the  glass  of  God's  law,  and  has  seen 
the  sentence  of  his  own  condemnation  staring  him  in 
the  face,  must  have  a  deep  sympathy  for  others  still  in 
the  same  circumstances  of  jeopardy.  And  finally,  it 
leads  to  a  spirit  of  forbearance  towards  others  ;  a  dis- 
position to  be  charitable  in  the  judgments  we  form  of 
them ;  and  especially  to  avoid  all  needless  exposure 
of  their  failings ;  for  who  that  knows  his  own  infirmi- 


SELF. KNOWLEDGE.  19t 

ties  and  corruptions,  can  find  it  in  his  heart  to  pass 
sentence  on  the  character  of  others,  as  if  he  were  not 
himself,  in  some  sense,  under  the  same  condemnation  ? 

There  is  yet  another  influence  which  self-knowledge 
exerts  in  aiding  the  growth  of  the  rehgion  of  the 
heart — ^it  secures  the  Christian,  in  a  great  degree, 
against  the  power  of  temptation.  He  who  under- 
stands well  his  own  character,  who  knows  what  sins 
most  easily  beset  him,  and  what  temptations  are  most 
likely  to  overcome  him,  will  not  needlessly  rush  into 
circumstances  in  which  he  will  be  peculiarly  exposed 
to  fall ;  or  if  he  goes  into  scenes  of  danger  at  the  un- 
questionable call  of  duty,  he  will  go  fully  apprized  of 
the  danger,  and  girded  for  a  conflict  with  the  enemies 
which  may  assail  him.  The  great  reason  why  so 
many  professed  disciples  of  Christ  fall  into  grievous 
temptation,  and  make  work  for  bitter  repentance,  is, 
that  they  are  deficient  in  self-knowledge.  This  was 
true  of  Peter,  and  it  has  been  true  of  thousands  of 
others,  who  have  made  shipwreck  of  their  good  resolu- 
tions, and  have  finally  been  reclaimed  by  a  course  of 
the  severest  discipline. 

Self-knowledge  has  much  to  do  in  promoting  the 
Christian's  usefulness.  That  it  must  be  so,  is  evident 
from  the  remarks  already  made ;  for  piety  is  in  its 
very  nature  active,  and  prompts  to  a  course  of  benevo- 
lent exertion  :  hence,  if  self-knowledge  ministers  to  the 
growth  of  piety,  it  cannot  fail  to  minister  to  increasing 
usefulness.    It  will  always  be  found  that  just  in  pro- 


198  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

portion  as  the  Christian's  heart  becomes  a  dwelling- 
place  of  good  affections,  as  a  spirit  of  gratitude,  of 
humility,  and  of  dependence  on  God  increases,  he  will 
show  himself  ready  to  every  good  word  and  work. 

But  it  is  the  tendency  of  self-knowledge  to  promote 
the  Christian's  usefulness  still  further,  as  it  assists  him 
to  select  a  proper  field  for  his  activity.  If  an  indi- 
vidual happens  to  get  into  a  sphere  for  which  he  is 
particularly  disqualified,  let  his  intentions  be  as  good 
as  they  may,  and  let  his  activity  be  ever  so  great,  it 
is  not  improbable  that  greater  injury  than  benefit  will 
result  from  his  exertions ;  whereas  the  same  amount 
of  effort,  in  a  field  for  which  Providence  had  fitted 
him,  might  exert  a  blessed  influence  on  many  suc- 
cessive generations.  Self-knowledge  is  the  grand  se- 
curity against  mistaking  in  this  matter.  If  you  know 
well  the  peculiarities  of  your  own  mind  and  tempera- 
ment, the  weak  as  well  as  the  strong  points  in  your 
character,  you  will  be  in  little  danger  of  engaging  in 
enterprises  for  which  God  never  designed  you  ;  and  on 
the  other  hand,  you  will  be  likely  to  employ  your 
powers  on  the  most  suitable  objects,  and  with  the  best 
effect. 

Self-knowledge  is  fitted,  moreover,  to  promote  the 
Christian's  usefulness,  as  it  imparts  to  him  stability  of 
character.  If  you  know  little  of  yourself,  you  will 
almost  of  course  be  Hable  to  a  sudden  adoption  of 
opinions  respecting  truth  and  duty,  and  to  an  equally 
sudden  abandonment  of  them ;  and  this  will  produce 


SELF-KNOWLEDO-E.  199 

a  habit  of  instability  both  of  feeling  and  action,  which 
will  injure  your  usefulness  by  weakening  the  confidence 
of  others  in  your  judgment,  and  by  rendering  your 
efforts  feeble  and  inefficient.  On  the  other  hand,  an 
intimate  acquaintance  with  your  own  heart,  as  it  will 
keep  you  from  engaging  in  rash  enterprises,  will  also 
make  you  resolute  and  stable  in  respect  to  those  in 
which  you  actually  engage ;  and  your  facilities  for 
doing  good  will  be  increased  by  the  favorable  regard 
which  this  habit  of  stability  will  secure  to  you  from 
the  surrounding  community.  Is  it  not  manifest,  then, 
that  self-knowledge  is  one  of  the  best  pledges  for  well- 
directed  activity  and  usefulness  ? 

But  how  is  this  most  desirable  attainment  to  be 
made  ?  It  is  within  the  reach  of  every  individual,  and 
yet  there  is  reason  to  fear  that  the  multitude  remain 
strangers  to  it.  The  reason  is,  that  they  shrink  from 
the  effort  necessary  for  knowing  themselves  on  the  one 
hand,  and  dread  the  result  of  an  examination  on  the 
other. 

If  you  would  know  yourself,  it  is  essential  that  you 
should  habitually  and  faithfully  perform  the  duty  of 
self-i*ommunion.  You  must  not  be  contented  with 
looking  merely  at  the  external  act,  but  faithfully  in- 
vestigate the  motives  and  principles  of  your  conduct. 
You  must  compare  your  actions,  not  with  any  human 
standard,  but  with  the  rule  of  duty  which  God  has 
revealed  in  his  word.  You  must  let  your  examination 
be  conducted  with  great  vigilance,  with  due  delibera- 


200  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 

tion,  with  unyielding  resolution,  and  with  entire  im- 
partiality. You  must  examine  the  operations  of  your 
mind  and  heart  in  different  states  of  feeling,  and  in 
every  variety  of  circumstances ;  and  must  compare 
the  result  at  one  time  with  the  result  at  another  ;  that 
thus  you  may  be  able  to  ascertain  the  general  tenor 
of  your  thoughts  and  feelings.  A  superficial  and  oc- 
casional inspection  of  your  heart  will  contribute  little 
to  your  stock  of  self-knowledge,  and  may  even  expose 
you  to  fatal  self-deception ;  but  an  examination,  con- 
ducted in  the  manner  which  I  have  described,  cannot 
fail  in  the  end  to  render  you  intimately  acquainted 
with  yourself. 

Judicious  and  free  conversation  with  Christian  friends 
is  another  important  means  of  acquiring  self-knowledge. 
The  truth  is,  that  we  often  by  our  conduct  exhibit  feel- 
ings and  traits  of  character  which  we  are  not  conscious 
of  possessing ;  and  thus  put  it  in  the  power  of  our 
friends  to  reveal  to  us  the  secrets  of  our  own  hearts. 
And  though  this  is  a  matter  upon  which  we  ought  not 
to  converse  too  indiscriminately,  yet  it  may  very  safely 
and  properly  become  a  subject  of  conversation  with 
those  in  whom  we  repose  special  confidence  ;  and  they 
may  be  of  immense  advantage  to  us  by  giving  us  their 
honest  impressions  in  respect  to  that  part  of  our  con- 
duct which  falls  under  their  observation.  Nay,  we 
may  often  learn  important  lessons  in  respect  to  our- 
selves by  watching  the  conduct  of  others  towards  us ; 
for  it  is  more  than  probable,  if  they  know  us  intimately, 


SELF-KNOWLEDaE.  201 

that  they  judge  correctly  respecting  our  character,  and 
their  treatment  of  us  will  almost  certainly  reveal  their 
true  opinion.  If,  for  instance,  the  careless  world  treat 
a  professing  Christian  habitually  as  if  he  were  one  of 
themselves,  you  may  calculate,  with  absolute  assurance, 
that  he  has  become  a  backslider :  and  many  a  pro- 
fessor, no  doubt,  if  he  would,  might  learn  from  the 
treatment  which  he  receives  from  the  world,  that  he 
is  beginning  to  wander,  while  he  has  scarcely  begun 
to  suspect  it  from  observation  upon  his  own  conduct, 
or  from  an  examination  of  his  own  heart. 

Eeading  the  Scriptures  and  prayer  are  among  the 
most  important  of  all  the  means  of  self-knowledge. 
The  former,  by  exhibiting  in  the  divine  law  a  perfect 
standard  of  duty,  and  by  exhibiting  the  character  of 
man  in  every  variety  of  condition  and  under  every  kind 
of  influence,  brings  us  acquainted,  more  than  all  other 
books,  with  the  most  secret  springs  of  human  action. 
The  latter  secures  God's  blessing  upon  every  other 
effort,  while  it  brings  to  our  aid  a  direct  divine  illumi- 
nation. Study  the  Bible  then  daily  and  diligently, 
and  pray  without  ceasing  for  the  enlightening  influence 
of  God's  Spirit,  and  you  will  soon  be  a  proficient  in 
self-knowledge. 

Your  affectionate 

FATHER. 


202 


LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 


LETTER   XVII. 


SELF-GOVERITMENT. 


My  dear  Child — Perhaps  there  is  nothing  in  which 
rehgion  displays  a  more  heavenly  triumph  than  in  the 
power  which  she  gives  us  of  controlUng  ourselves. 
The  shock  of  the  apostasy  has  given  to  the  moral 
principles  of  our  nature  a  wrong  direction ;  and  all 
the  power  which  reason  and  conscience  can  exert, 
without  the  influence  of  religion,  is  insufficient  to  subdue 
and  control,  our  native  propensities.  Practical  Chris- 
tianity, however,  is  powerful  enough  to  deliver  us  from 
this  unhappy  thraldom.  It  is  by  her  omnipotent  and 
all-pervading  influence  that  the  thoughts  are  disciplined 
to  flow  in  a  proper  channel,  the  passions  and  appetites 
subjected  to  the  control  of  reason,  and  the  tongue 
bridled  against  sinful  levity  and  unhallowed  reproach. 

But  inasmuch  as  religion  regards  you  as  a  rational 
and  accountable  being,  she  accomplishes  this  redemp- 
tion not  by  any  magical  or  arbitrary  process,  but  by 
subjecting  you  to  laws  which  are  altogether  fitted  to 
your  moral  nature.  If  then  you  will  escape  from  the 
doniinion  of  unhallowed  thoughts  and  tempers,  yon 


SELF-aOVERNMENT.  203 

must  surrender  yourself  to  the  practical  influence  of 
the  gospel,  you  must  resolutely  break  away  from  the 
enchanted  ground  of  temptation ;  you  must  be  daily 
conversant  with  that  almighty  power  which  alone 
can  arm  you  for  a  conflict  with  yourself;  you  must 
learn  to  detect  the  deceitful  and  wandering  imagina- 
tion, and  station  a  vigilant  sentinel  at  every  watch- 
tower  of  your  heart.  To  think  of  acquiring  a  habit 
of  self-government  independently  of  the  influence  of 
religion,  were  as  wild  as  to  think  of  assuaging  the 
elements  by  a  word,  when  they  are  wrought  up  to  the 
fury  of  a  tempest. 

An  important  part  of  self-government  respects  the 
thoughts.  It  is  a  delusion  into  which  we  easily  fall, 
that  if  our  external  deportment  is  correct  and  exem- 
plary, it  matters  httle  what  are  the  secret  operations 
of  the  mind.  The  thoughts,  because  they  are  invisible, 
are  regarded  as  being  scarcely  within  our  control ; 
and  no  doubt  many  a  mind  finds  an  apology  for  gross 
and  habitual  wanderings,  in  a  sort  of  indefinite  con- 
viction that  the  imagination  was  made  to  have  its  own 
way,  and  therefore  it  is  in  vain  to  attempt  to  restrain 
it.  So  long  as  the  tongue  is  kept  from  giving  utter- 
ance to  the  evil  thoughts  which  occupy  the  mind,  it  is 
most  unwarrantably  concluded  that  they  may  be  in- 
dulged without  injury.  But  the  thoughts,  let  it  be 
remembered,  are  among  the  primary  elements  of  moral 
action.  If  they  are  habitually  wrong,  the  feehngs  will 
be  so  also ;  and  the  thoughts  and  feelings  together 


204  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

constitute,  in  the  view  of  God,  the  whole  moral  charac- 
ter. The  moment  you  yield  to  the  conviction  that  no 
restraint  is  needed  here,  you  resolve  on  a  course  which 
must  make  you  odious  in  the  sight  of  Heaven ;  and 
nothing  but  the  well  sustained  and  undetected  charac- 
ter of  a  hypocrite  can  save  you  from  being  odious  in 
the  view  of  the  world. 

I  acknowledge  that  the  duty  to  which  I  am  urging 
you,  that  of  exercising  a  suitable  control  over  your 
thoughts,  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  to  which  you  can 
be  called  ;  and  it  were  in  vain  to  think  of  discharging 
it  without  severe  effort.  You  should  endeavor  habitu- 
ally to  realize  that  you  are  as  truly  responsible  to  God 
for  the  indulgence  of  a  vain  imagination,  as  you  would 
be  if  every  evil  thought  that  rises  in  your  heart  were 
embodied  in  the  form  of  a  palpable  action.  You 
should  guard  against  the  beginning  of  such  a  habit ; 
for  if  it  were  once  firmly  established,  there  is  scarcely 
any  other  habit  which  might  not  with  less  difficulty 
be  broken  up ;  for  this  reason  especially,  that  this  is 
invisible,  and  of  course  not  to  be  affected  by  any  con- 
siderations drawn  from  external  circumstances.  You 
should  guard  against  all  those  scenes  and  occasions 
which  may  be  likely  to  throw  you  into  the  power  of 
these  invisible  tyrants,  or  to  lead  you,  even  in  the 
smallest  degree,  to  relax  your  circumspection.  You 
should  especially  guard  the  senses ;  for  these  are  the 
principal  avenues  through  which  vain  thoughts  find 
their  way  into  the  soul.     But  let  the  effort  necessary 


SELF-aOVERNMENT.  205 

to  this  branch  of  self-government  be  as  severe  as  it 
may,  let  nothing  tempt  you  to  neglect  it ;  for  you  may 
rest  assured  that  it  constitutes,  in  an  important  sense, 
the  keystone  to  a  virtuous  character. 

But  you  must  not  only  look  well  to  the  government 
of  the  thoughts,  but  also  of  the  passions  and  alTections. 
This  especially  is  the  department  of  the  soul  in  which 
motives  operate,  and  where  are  fixed  all  the  springs 
of  human  accountableness.  It  is  indeed  at  the  torch 
of  the  imagination  that  the  passions  are  usually  kin- 
dled ;  and  this  is  a  reason  why  the  imagination  should 
be  kept  with  all  diligence  ;  but  the  passions  will  never 
be  held  in  subjection,  unless  there  be  employed  in 
reference  to  this  object  a  great  amount  of  direct  effort. 
So  active  and  powerful  are  they  that  they  will  often 
plead  their  own  cause,  not  only  eloquently  but  success- 
fully, against  reason,  conscience,  and  character ;  and 
many  an  individual  has  sacrificed  at  the  shrine  of 
passion,  every  thing  dear  on  earth,  every  thing  glori- 
ous in  eternity. 

As  there  is  a  great  variety  in  the  human  constitu- 
tion, the  different  passions  will  be  found  to  exist  in 
different  individuals,  with  very  unequal  degrees  of 
strength ;  insomuch  that  what  constitutes  the  ruling 
passion  of  one,  may  operate  with  comparatively  little 
strength  in  another.  It  becomes  therefore  a  matter 
of  no  small  moment  to  each  individual  to  apply  the 
most  active  restraint  where  it  is  most  demanded  ;  not 
indeed  to  be  negligent  in  respect  to  any  of  the  passions, 


206  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

bat  to  be  specially  armed  for  a  conflict  with  those 
which  are  the  most  formidable. 

Guard  against  the  improper  indulgence  of  anger. 
The  evil  of  giving  way  to  hasty  and  violent  resent- 
ments is  always  great,  and  sometimes  irretrievable. 
You  thereby  deprive  yourself  for  the  time  of  the  power 
of  regulating  your  own  conduct,  while  yet  .you  must 
be  responsible  for  all  its  consequences;  for  neither 
common-sense  nor  conscience,  the  law  of  God  nor  the 
law  of  man,  excuses  a  bad  action  because  it  has  been 
performed  in  a  paroxysm  of  passion.  You  may,  by  a 
single  word  spoken  at  such  a  moment,  leave  a  sting 
in  the  heart  of  a  friend  which  no  acts  of  subsequent 
kindness  may  be  able  fully  to  extract ;  a  friend  too,  it 
may  be,  for  whom,  in  an  hour  of  reflection,  you  would 
have  done  or  suffered  any  thing.  Or  you  may  need- 
lessly subject  yourself  to  the  ridicule  and  sneers  of 
those  who  are  below  you  ;  of  those  who  are  upon  the 
look-out  for  your  foibles,  and  stand  ready  to  make  the 
most  of  them.  Nay,  you  may  bring  yourself  into  sad 
disrepute  .with  all  around  you,  and  may  greatly  cloud 
your  worldly  prospects,  and  prepare  for  yourself  a 
•scene  of  mortification  and  disgrace  which  will  last 
while  you  live,  and  then  be  entailed  upon  your  memory 
In  short,  if  you  exercise  little  or  no  self-control  in  thia 
respect,  you  can  have  no  security  for  your  comfort — no 
security  for  your  character. 

If  I  were  to  prescribe  one  of  the  best  remedies  for  a 
hasty  spirit,  I  should  say,  accustom  yourself  to  be 


SELF-aOVERNMENT.  207 

silent  under  provocation.  It  is  a  maxim  with  some, 
that  the  best  way  of  encountering  insult  is^to  speak 
out  whatever  is  in  the  heart,  and  thus  let  an  angry- 
spirit  exhaust  itself  in  a  torrent  of  reproach.  Pre- 
cisely the  opposite  of  this  is  the  course  which  I  would 
recommend.  If  you  begin  to  talk  while  you  are  in  a 
passion,  the  effect  will  almost  certainly  be  that  your 
feelings  will  become  more  and  more  excited ;  for  while 
there  is  a  tendency  to  such  a  result,  in  the  very  act  of 
uttering  your  feelings  you  will  be  in  danger  of  saying 
things  which  will  bring  back  upon  you  still  heavier 
provocation.  If,  on  the  contrary,  when  you  feel  the 
first  risings  of  resentment,  you  make  it  a  rule  to  pause 
and  reflect  on  the  evil  consequences  of  such  a  spirit, 
and  on  the  guilt  as  well  as  the  folly  of  indulging  it, 
you  will  probably  have  occasion  to  pause  but  a  moment 
before  reason  will  resume  her  dominion,  and  you  can 
converse  with  composure  and  dignity.  And  it  is  worthy 
of  remark,  that  while  such' a  course  will  exert  the  hap- 
piest influence  upon  yourself,  it  will,  more  than  any 
thing  else,  disarm  others  of  a  spirit  of  provocation,  and 
thus  secure  you  from  insults  and  injuries.  Mark  it  as 
often  as"  you  will,  and  you  will  find  that  the  individual 
who  is  most  calm  and  patient  in  the  reception  of  inju- 
ries, is  the  very  one  who  has  the  fewest  injuries  to 
endure. 

In  connection  with  a  spirit  of  anger,  I  may  mention 
a,  kindred  passion,  that  of  revenge ;  for  experience 
proves  that  revenge  sometimes  deforms  and  blackens 


208  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 

even  the  female  character.  Anger  is  most  commonly 
the  exercise  of  a  rash  and  hasty  spirit ;  and  it  often 
happens,  that  though  it  may  be  followed  by  the  most 
lasting  evils,  yet  it  passes  away  in  an  hour,  or  even  in 
a  moment.  Revenge  is  more  thoughtful,  more  deliber- 
ate ;  its  purposes  are  indeed  usually  conceived  in  anger, 
but  often  executed  with  coolness,  and  sometimes  even 
in  the  dark.  Whatever  injuries  you  may  receive, 
never  allow  yourself  for  a  moment  to  meditate  a  pur- 
pose of  retaliation.  You  are  not  indeed  required 
tamely  to  surrender  your  rights  to  every  one  who  may 
choose  wantonly  to  invade  them,  for  that  would  be 
little  less  than  to  court  injuries;  but  you  are  never, 
under  any  circumstances  of  provocation,  to  depart  from 
the  golden  rule — never  to  form  a  design,  or  even  to 
harbor  a  wish  to  return  evil  for  evil.  Nothing  is  more 
noble  than  to  be  able  to  forgive  an  injury,  instead  of 
inflicting  injury  again.  You  remember  that  most 
beautifiil  and  touching  instance  in  which  the  Saviour, 
in  the  action  of  death,  commended  to  the  forgiveness 
of  his  Father  his  enemies  and  murderers.  Who  ever 
contemplated  this  incident  in  his  life,  without  a  deep 
impression  of  reverence  and  moral  sublimity?  Who 
ever  doubted  that  the  imitation  of  such  an  example 
would  confer  true  dignity  of  character  ? 

There  is  envy  too — one  of  the  meanest  of  all  the 
passions,  and  yet  it  too  often  gets  a  strong  lodgement 
in  the  breast.  You  mistake  if  you  imagine  that  this 
is  confined  chiefly  to  persons  in  the  lower  walks  of 


self-CtOvernment.  209 

life ;  it  is,  for  aught  I  know,  just  as  common  among 
the  more  elevated  as  the  more  obscure  ;  and  there  is 
nothing  in  external  circumstances  that  can  prevent  its 
operation.  It  is  alike  offensive  in  the  sight  of  God  and 
of  man.  If  the  object  towards  which  it  is  exercised  be 
wealth,  or  splendor,  or  any  thing  connected  with  the 
pride  and  circumstance  of  life,  it  is  unreasonable,  be- 
cause nothing  of  all  this  is  essential  to  human  happiness  ; 
and  if  God  in  his  providence  places  these  temporal 
possessions  beyond  our  reach,  we  ought  to  conclude 
that  it  is  best  that  they  should  be  withheld  from  us. 
If  the  object  be  intellectual  strength  or  culture,  this 
passion  is  unreasonable  still ;  for  it  implies  either  a 
dissatisfaction  with  the  powers  and  opportunities  which 
God  has  given  us,  or  else  an  unwiUingness  to  use  the 
exertion  necessary  for  making  the  best  of  them.  And 
even  if  the  object  be  moral  excellence,  the  unreasona- 
bleness of  indulging  this  feehng  is  not  at  all  diminished ; 
for  whatever  is  elevated  in  moral  or  Christian  charac- 
ter, every  individual  is  commanded  to  attain  ;  and  to 
each  one  God  is  ready  to  give  the  necessary  helps  for 
doing  so.  And  it  is  not  only  an  unreasonable,  but  a 
malignant  spirit.  It  looks  with  an  eye  of  hatred  upon 
a  brother,  for  no  other  reason  than  because  he  is,  or 
is  supposed  to  be,  a  special  favorite  of  Providence. 
If  this  hateful  passion  ever  rises  in  your  breast,  banish 
it  as  one  of  the  worst  enemies  of  your  happiness,  your 
character,  and  your  soul.  Or,  I  would  rather  say, 
cultivate  such  a  habit  of  feeling  as  shall  be  an  effectual 

Let.  to  Daugh.  ]  4 


210  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

security  against  it.  Think  how  many  reasons  there 
are  why  you  should  delight  in  the  happiness  of  your 
fellow-creatures";  and  let  those  considerations  operate 
not  only  to  keep  you  from  being  envious,  but  to  make 
you  grateful,  when  those  around  you  are  in  any  way 
the  special  objects  of  the  divine  goodness. 

The  various  appetites  which  have  their  seat  in  the 
animal  nature,  ought  also  to  be  kept  in  rigid  subjection. 
These  appetites  were  given  us  fOr  important  purposes  ; 
but  who  does  not  know  that  in  a  multitude  of  instances, 
instead  of  accomplishing  the  end  for  which  they  were 
designed,  they  actually  become  the  ministers  of  death  ? 
Many,  even  of  your  own  sex,  and  those  too,  the  circum- 
stances of  whose  birth  and  education  might  have  been 
expected  most  effectually  to  shield  them  from  such  a 
calamity,  have  resigned  themselves  to  a  habit  of  in- 
temperance, and  have  ultimately  sunk  to  the  lowest 
point  of  degradation.  Once  they  would  have  been 
startled  with  horror  by  the  thought  of  their  present 
condition ;  but  the  almost  imperceptible  indulgence 
with  which  they  began,  gradually  increased  till  they 
plunged  into  gross  dissipation,  and  exiled  themselves 
not  only  from  decent  society,  but  from  the  affections 
of  their  own  kindred.  What  young  female  can -con- 
template examples  like  these,  and  quietly  repose  in  the 
conviction  that  she  is  beyond  the  reach  of  danger  ? 

I  must  not  omit  to  speak  here  of  the  government  of 
the  tongue,  though  much  of  what  appropriately  be- 
longs to  this  branch  of  the  subject  has  been  antici})ated 


SELF-aOVERNMENT.  211 

in  a  preceding  letter.  If  your  thoughts  and  passions 
and  appetites  are  kept  in  due  subjection,  the  proper 
regulation  of  the  tongue  will  be  a  matter  of  course; 
for  ''out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the  mouth 
speaketh."  There  is  the  deceitful  tongue,  which  deals 
in  misrepresentation  and  falsehood.  There  is  the  lo- 
quacious tongue,  that  monopolizes  the  conversation  of 
every  circle,  and  tires  by  its  perpetual  garrulity. 
There  is  the  vulgar  tongue,  that  throws  out  indecent 
allusions,  and  finds  its  element  in  grovelling  subjects. 
There  is  the  inflamed  tongue,  that  busies  itself  in  the 
propagation  of  scandal,  and  loves  to  array  friends 
against  each  other,  and  keep  neighborhoods  in  com- 
motion ;  and  there  is  the  flattering  tongue,  which 
would  pour  into  your  ears  the  sweetest  strains  of  ap- 
plause, and  would  make  you  think  that  you  are  too 
good  for  this  world,  and  are  as  lovely  and  beautiful  as 
an  angel.  Take  heed  that  your  tongue  is  never  prosti- 
tuted to  any  of  these  unworthy  purposes.  And  recol- 
lect that  while  the  thoughts  and  passions  and  appetites 
control  the  movements  of  the  tongue,  the  tongue  in  its 
turn  exerts  an  influence  upon  them  either  for  good  or 
evil.  If  you  cherish  an  habitual  impression  of  the 
presence  of  God,  and  in  all  that  you  say  endeavor  to 
keep  yourself  subject  to  the  dictates  of  an  enlightened 
and  wakeful  conscience,  your  tongue  will  indeed  be  the 
glory  of  your  frame,  and  a  source  of  blessing  to  yourself 
and  others  ;  but  if  not,  take  heed  lest  it  should  prove 
a  world  of  iniquity,  and  should  be  the  instrument 


212  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

of  bringing  upon  you  a  fearfully  aggravated  condem- 
nation. 

In  respect  to  the  importance  of  self-government,  I 
surely  need  not  enlarge.  You  cannot  fail  to  perceive 
that  it  is  essential  to  all  true  dignity  of  character,  and  • 
to  all  that  enjoyment  which  is  worthy  of  your  rational 
and  immortal  nature.  Without  it  you  may  imagine 
yourself  free,  but  you  are  really  in  the  most  degrading 
vassalage.  Without  it,  you  may  consider  yourself  re- 
spectable, but  all  virtuous  beings  will  regard  your 
character  with  pity  and  abhorrence.  With  it,  you 
will  rise  up  to  the  true  dignity  of  a  rational  being,  and 
act  in  consistency  with  your  immortal  hopes. 
Your  ever  affectionate 

FATHER. 


HUMILITY.  213 


LETTER   XYIII. 

HUMILITY.  '    • 

My  dear  Child — It  is  one  of  the  most  distinguishing 
and  lovely  features  of  Christianity,  that  it  not  only 
inculcates,  but  actually  produces  and  cherishes  the 
grace  of  humility.  So  remote  is  this  from  the  spirit 
of  paganism,  even  in  its  least  exceptionable  forms,  that 
the  language  of  the  nation  more  enlightened  than  any 
other  at  the  time  of  the  advent  of  Christ,  did  not  sup- 
ply a  vi^ord  expressive  of  what  we  mean  by  humility. 
It  belongs  to  the  gospel  to  have  made  the  discovery 
that  there  is  a  species  of  self-abasement  which,  while 
it  is  befitting  our  character  as  sinners,  is  intimately 
connected  with  the  highest  moral  dignity. 

There  is,  however,  much  that  passes  more  or  less 
current  in  the  world  for  humility,  which  does  not  de- 
serve the  name ;  and  in  respect  to  this,  as  of  all  the 
other  graces  of  the  Christian,  it  is  important  that  you 
should  be  able  to  detect  its  counterfeits.  There  is,  for 
instance,  an  abject  spirit,  which  is  grovelling  in  its 
nature,  and  finds  its  appropriate  element  amidst  a  cor- 
responding set  of  objects  ;  whereas  true  humility  lifts 
the  soul  from  the  dust  and  brings  it  in  contact  with 
some  of  the  most  glorious  objects  in  the  universe. 


214  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

There  is  also  a  desponding  spirit,  which  lives  upon 
doubts  and  anxieties  in  respect  to  personal  religious 
experience,  and  turns  away  from  the  promises  as  if 
they  were  made  only  for  those  who  could  appropriate 
them  with  absolute  assurance  :  this  cannot  be  genuine 
humility,  for  it  is  the  legitimate  offspring  of  unbelief, 
and  humility  is  always  connected  with  Hving  faith. 
There  is,  moreover,  a  timid  spirit,  which  attempts  lit- 
tle, and  therefore  accomplishes  little ;  on  the  ground 
perhaps  that  there  may  be  danger  of  overrating  one's 
own  powers  ;  but  humility  is  perfectly  consistent  with 
forming  large  plans,  and  entering  upon  the  most  ex- 
tensive field  of  action,  provided  it  be  from  Christian 
motives.  It  is  a  mistake  into  which  many  persons 
fall,  that  pride  is  always  the  accompaniment  of  rank, 
and  that  humility  is  found  almost  of  course  among  the 
lower  classes.  There  may  be  more,  I  acknowledge,  in 
the  one  case  than  the  other,  to  foster  a  spirit  of  pride  ; 
though  even  in  this  respect,  on  account  of  the  different 
standards  that  exist  among  various  classes,  there  may 
be  less  difference  than  might  be  imagined;  but  the 
truth  undoubtedly  is,  that  you  may  be  very  humble  in 
any  station  to  which  Providence  can  raise  you ;  or  you 
may  be  very  proud  in  the  obscurest  situation  to  which 
you  can  be  reduced. 

But  there  is  nothing  in  which  a  spirit  of  false  hu- 
mihty  discovers  itself  more  decisively  than  in  speaking 
more  unfavorably  of  one's  self  than  facts  will  warrant. 
Expressions  of  this  kind  almost  uniformly  fail  of  their 


HUMILITY.  215 

object ;  for  it  requires  but  little  discernment  to  detect 
the  unworthy  motive.  If  you  attribute  to  yourself 
faults  with  which  you  and  the  world  know  that  you 
are  not  chargeable,  instead  of  being  taken  as  a  mark 
of  humility,  it  will  be  regarded  as  an  indication  of  a 
weak  mind,  and  an  unworthy  attempt  to  provoke  com- 
mendation which  you  do  not  deserve. 

One  of  the  most  common,  and  to  me  one  of  the  most 
painful  exhibitions  of  this  spirit,  consists  in  the  indis- 
criminate and  often  somewhat  public  confessions  of 
professed  Christians  in  respect  to  their  own  coldness 
and  neglect  of  duty,  when  they  manifest  no  disposition 
to  be  more  active  and  faithful.  All  this  kind  of  self- 
righteous  gossiping,  for  I  can  call  it  nothing  better,  is 
often  found  a  most  convenient  substitute  for  doing 
one's  duty ;  and,  if  I  mistake  not,  many  a  lukewarm 
Christian  has  found  in  these  unmeaning  confessions  an 
opiate  to  his  conscience,  in  the  strength  of  which  he 
has  gone  many  days.  And  I  am  constrained  to  ex- 
press my  conviction  that  this  same  spirit  not  unfre- 
quently  operates  in  prayer  ;  and  that  acknowledgments 
of  grievous  backshding  are  attempted  to  be  poured 
into  the  ear  of  mercy,  which  are  really  very  little  felt, 
and  which  are  scarcely  designed  to  answer  any  other 
purpose,  I  almost  shudder  to  say  it,  than  to  lessen  the 
remorse  which  attends  a  habit  of  sinning.  Wherever 
you  see  active  efforts  to  forsake  sin  and  to  rise  to  a 
higher  tone  of  rehgious  feeling  and  action,  there  you 
may  take  it  for  granted  is  true  humihty :  but  where 


216  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER, 

nothing  appears  but  confessions  of  delinquency,  how- 
ever deep  or  often  repeated,  you  may  rely  on  it,  the 
genuine  grace  is  not  there. 

True  Christian  humility  is  one  of  the  effects  of  divine 
grace  operating  upon  the  heart.  The  apostle  has  beau- 
tifully described  it  in  few  words,  as  a  disposition  which 
leads  us  not  to  think  more  highly  of  ourselves  than  we 
ought  to  think.  It  discovers  itself  in  heartfelt  expres- 
sions of  abasement  before  God,  and  in  the  modesty  of  our 
appearance,  conversation,  and  pursuits  before  the  world. 

It  is  one  of  the  first  exercises  of  true  humility,  that 
it  leads  to  the  renunciation  of  our  own  works  as  a 
ground  of  justification.  Notwithstanding  the  Chris- 
tian may  be  conscious  of  being  enabled  really  to  exer- 
cise some  graces,  yet  when  he  compares  his  character 
with  the  standard,  he  finds  such  an  awful  deficiency 
that  he  dares  not  trust  to  his  own  doings  for  a  moment. 
When  he  asks  himself  whether  he  is  really  sincere, 
whether  he  loves  God,  and  is  seeking  to  advance  his 
glory,  his  conscience  returns  an  affirmative,  though 
perhaps  a  somewhat  trembling  answer.  But  when  he 
inquires  whether  his  offences  do  not  fearfully  prepon- 
derate, much  more  whether  he  has  a  right  to  hope  for 
salvation^  on  the  ground  of  his  own  obedience,  his  mind 
is  instantly  directed  to  the  righteousness  of  Christ. 
Sometimes,  it  may  be,  when  the  candle  of  the  Lord 
shines  bright  upon  him,  he  is  ready  for  a  moment  to 
imagine  that  his  mountain  stands  strong ;  but  not  im- 
i^robably  the  change  is  so  sudden  to  a  state  of  dark- 


HUMILITY.  217 

ness  and  doubt,  that  he  begins  to  question  the  reality 
of  his  whole  experience.  Whoever  has  yet  to  learn 
that  his  own  strength  is  weakness,  and  that  his  own 
righteousness  is  nothing  in  the  affair  of  justification, 
has  not  entered  upon  the  Christian  life,  and  is  of  course 
a  stranger  to  genuine  humility. 

Closely  connected  with  the  renunciation  of  our  own 
works,  is  hatred  of  sin.  It  is  true  indeed  that  the 
Christian  does  not  contemplate  sin  in  all  its  malignity  : 
he  does  not  realize  how  deep  is  the  depravity  which 
reigns  in  his  own  heart ;  nor  are  the  views  which  he 
has  of  the  subject  equally  clear  at  all  times :  still,  he- 
has  had  such  views  at  some  period  or  other  as  to  bring 
him  into  the  dust  before  God.  And  this  self-abase- 
ment does  not  arise  from  the  contemplation  of  sin  as  it 
is  acted  out  in  its  more  odious  forms  in  the  world,  so 
much  as  from  a  view  of  his  own  personal  depravity. 
It  is  the  principle  of  sin,  especially  as  it  operates  in 
his  own  bosom,  which  awakens  his  most  cordial  hatred, 
and  enlists  his  most  active  opposition. 

The  motives  for  the  cultivation  of  humility  are  so 
numerous  that  I  can  only  glance  at  a  few  of  them. 
One  of  them  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  this  grace 
is  an  essential  and  prominent  part  of  Christian  charac- 
ter ;  and  that  you  have  so  much  and  only  so  much  of 
true  religion  as  you  have  of  true  humility.  One  of  the 
fathers  said,  *'If  I  were  asked  what  is  the  first  grace 
of  the  Christian,  I  would  say,  humility.  If  I  were 
asked  what  is  the  second,  I  would  say,  humility.     If  I 


218  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

were  asked  what  is  the  third,  I  would  still  say,  humihty 
for.  ever.''  No  doubt  pride,  in  some  form  or  other,  is 
a  ruling  principle  of  the  corrupt  heart :  if  then  you 
would  reach  a  high  point  in  sanctification,  guard 
against  pride  in  all  its  forms,  and  be  always  clothed 
with  the  garments  of  humility. 

And  if  this  be  so  important  a  part  of  Christian 
character,  I  hardly  need  say  that  it  is  essential  to  the 
Christian's  comfort.  Every  thing  in  the  universe  is 
part  of  a  system  ;  and  when  it  is  in  the  place  appointed 
for  it,  it  is  either  at  rest  or  in  harmonious  motion. 
This  is  true  of  ourselves  :  but  pride  disturbs  this  har- 
mony, and  by  removing  the  soul  out  of  its  proper 
sphere,  makes  it  restless  and  unhappy.  The  great 
secret  of  true  happiness  in  any  station  is  to  have  a 
principle  introduced,  and  in  exercise,  which  will  restore 
harmony  to  the  passions,  and  will  relieve  us  from  the 
conflicts  and  tumults  they  occasion. 

Not  a  small  part  of  the  unhappiness  that  exists  in 
the  world,  results  immediately  from  the  operation  of 
pride.  Where  in  the  annals  of  woe  will  you  find 
characters  that  have  been  subjected  to  deeper  suffering 
than  Pharaoh  and  Nebuchadnezzar  and  Herod  ?  But 
in  each  of  them  pride  was  emphatically  the  ruling 
passion,  and  to  it  they  sacrificed  every  thing  valuable 
in  time  and  eternity.  And  a  similar  result  we  have 
seen  in  many  cases  that  have  fallen  under  our  own 
observation  :  persons  who  have  gloried  in  their  fancied 
giiperiority  to  those  around  them — a  superiority  per- 


HUMILITY.  219 

haps  which  has  been  conferred  by  the  glitter  of  wealth 
or  the  breath  of  applause,  have  at  length  been  per- 
mitted to  fall,  not  only  into  entire  insignificance,  but 
into  the  deepest  degradation  ;  thus  verifying  the  divine 
declaration,  that  ''he  that  exalteth  himself  shall  be 
abased."  On  the  other  hand,  wherever  the  genuine 
humility. of  the  gospel  appears,  whatever  the  external 
circumstances  may  be,  there  you  may  look  with  con- 
fidence for  true  happiness.  Even  under  the  darkest 
cloud  of  adversity  humility  diffuses  a  sweet  peace,  and 
sometimes  an  unutterable  joy  through  the  soul.  Who 
has  not  seen  the  humble  Christian  breathing  out  his 
life  in  triumph?  Who  has  not  seen  the  proud  world- 
hng  dying  without  consolation  and  without  hope  ?  • 

Let  me  say  too  that  a  spirit  of  humility  will  go  far 
towards  rendering  you  acceptable  and  useful  in  your 
intercourse  with  the  world.  The  conduct  in  which  a 
proud  spirit  discovers  itself,  is  almost  sure  to  revolt 
even  the  proud  themselves,  when  they  witness  it  in 
others ;  and  as  for  the  humble,  they  cannot  fail  to 
regard  it  as  an  odious  quality,  though  they  may  pity 
those  who  are  the  subjects  of  it.  The  usefulness  of 
the  proud  man  must  be  limited,  not  only  because  his 
pride  will  probably  keep  him  within  a  narrow  sphere, 
but  because  the  efforts  which  he  actually  makes,  being 
prompted  by  a  wrong  spirit,  will  not  be  hkely  to  draw 
down  upon  them  the  blessing  of  God.  It  were  worth 
while  to  be  humble,  if  it  were  only  for  the  advantages 
which  humility  secures  in  the  present  life. 


220  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

Kemember  that  a  proud  spirit  cannot  be  concealed. 
If  it  exists  in  the  heart,  all  the  means  you  can  use  to 
conceal  it  from  the  world  will  be  in  vain.  It  will  dis- 
cover itself  in  your  conversation  and  deportment,  and 
will  give  a  complexion  to  your  whole  character.  I 
have  known  instances  in  which  the  manners  of  persons 
have  been  formed  in  the  morning  of  life  under  the 
influence  of  a  principle  of  pride ;  and  though  they 
afterwards  gave  evidence  of  true  piety,  the  haughty 
and  overbearing  manner  which  they  had  early  ac- 
quired, in  spite  of  all  their  exertions  to  the  contrary, 
continued  to  the  close  of  life.  Wherever  this  spirit  is 
acted  out  in  the  manners,  it  is  always  odious ;  but 
where  it  appears  in  the  manners  of  a  female,  it  re- 
ceives, from  the  world  at  least,  a  double  condemnation. 

With  a  view  to  increase  a  spirit  of  humility,  medr- 
tate  much  on  the  character  of  God,  and  especially  his 
holiness,  as  it  is  exhibited  in  the  work  of  redemption. 
Meditate  much  on  the  example  of  Christ,  who  hum- 
bled himself  and  became  obedient  to  death,  even  the 
death  of  the  cross.  E  ndeavor  to  gain  deep  impressions 
of  your  guilt,  and  of  the  punishment  to  which  your 
sins  have  justly  made  you  liable.  Dwell  upon  the 
goodness  of  God,  as  it  is  manifested  to  you  in  your 
unnumbered  mercies ;  on  the  promises  of  God  to  the 
humble  and  contrite  ;  and  remember  that  one  employ- 
ment of  the  redeemed  in  glory  is  to  cast  their  crowns 
at  their  Saviour's  feet.       Your  affectionate 

FATHER. 


DEVOTION. 


221 


LETTER   XIX 


DEVOTION. 


My  dear  Child — You  cannot  be  ignorant  that  one 
of  the  primary  elements  of  Christian  character  is  a 
spirit  of  devotion.  There  is  indeed  much  that  assumes 
the  name  of  devotion,  which  has  nothing  in  common 
vrith  genuine  piety,  while  yet  it  is  adopted  as  a  sub- 
stitute for  it.  There  is  the  habit  of  entire  seclusion 
from  the  world ;  there  is  the  practice  of  severe  self- 
mortification — doing  penance  to  atone  for  one's  mis- 
deeds, which  has  been  and  still  is,  to  a  considerable 
extent,  current  in  the  world,  under  the  name  of  devo- 
tion ;  though  I  need  not  stop  to  show  that  all  this  is 
merely  the  operation  of  a  spirit  of  self-righteousness, 
and  in  many  instances  no  doubt  of  deliberate  hypocrisy. 
It  makes  nothing  against  true  devotion  that  it  has  its 
counterfeits,  and  that  some  of  them  are  very  fair,  while 
yet  they  are  very  base.  It  is  not  always  easy  at  first 
view  to  distinguish  the  genuine  from  the  counterfeit 
coin,  though  when  each  comes  to  be  subjected  to  a 
rigid  analysis,  they  are  found  to  have  nothing  in  com- 
mon but  the  external  appearance.    In  hke  manner, 


222  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

there  often  seems  a  close  resemblance  between  true 
and  false  devotion  ;  and  it  may  not  always  be  possible 
for  the  undiscerning  eye  of  man  to  discriminate  between 
them ;  but  to  the  eye  of  Omniscience,  they  are  as 
widely  different  from  each  other  as  the  most  opposite 
elements. 

True  devotion  is  that  spiritual  intercourse  which  the 
soul  has  with  its  Maker  and  Redeemer  ;  it  is  the  intel- 
ligent communing  of  man  with  the  almighty  Spirit,  in 
acts  of  grateful  and  reverential  homage.  The  intellect 
rises  up  to  a  contemplation  of  God — of  his  character 
and  of  his  works — and  the  affections  rise  along  with 
it,  and  the  whole  soul  is  awed  and  melted  and  quick- 
ened by  coming  in  contact  as  it  were  with  the  injQnite 
Majesty.  The  primary  elements  of  devotion  are  the 
truths  of  God's  word.  Without  an  intelligent  view  of 
these  truths,  there  may  indeed  be  a  warm  glow  of 
feeling,  but  it  is  not  kindled  by  the  breathing  of  God's 
Holy  Spirit,  and  is  nothing  better  than  a  gust  of  en- 
thusiasm. The  person  who  is  in  the  exercise  of  a  truly 
devotional  spirit,  even  amidst  its  deepest  fervors,  can 
assign  a  good  reason  for  every  emotion  that  he  expe- 
riences ;  he  can  point  to  some  doctrine  or  some  promise 
in  God's  holy  word  to  justify  all  that  he  expresses,  and 
all  that  he  feels.  Devotion,  just  in  proportion  as  it 
subsists  upon  any  other  aliment  than  the  simple  truth, 
becomes  blind,  and  of  course  spurious. 

The  spirit  of  devotion  finds  its  element  peculiarly, 
though  by  no  means  exclusively,  in  the  closet.   .  If  it 


DEVOTION.  223 

were  compelled  to  encounter  continually  the  cold  at- 
mosphere of  the  world,  it  would  seem  scarcely  possible 
but  that  it  should  languish  and  finally  expire  ;  but  it 
goes  back  at  short  intervals  to  the  closet,  and  then 
comes  forth  invigorated  by  its  secret  communings  with 
the  fountain  of  light  and  strength.  It  is  of  great  im- 
portance that  the  duty  of  secret  prayer  should  be  per- 
formed not  only  frequently,  but  at  stated  seasons  ;  for 
while  it  is  most  intimately  connected  with  the  main- 
tenance of  a  spirit  of  devotion,  and  of  course  with 
growth  in  grace,  a  habit  of  irregularity  is  almost  sure 
to  beget  a  habit  of  coldness  ;  and  by  this  very  process 
many  a  Christian  has  passed  in  a  short  period  from  a 
state  of  high  religious  enjoyment  and  activity  to  a 
state  of  grievous  backsliding.  Indeed,  I  think  there 
are  few  cases  of  rehgious  declension  which  will  not  be 
found  to  have  originated  in  a  neglect  of  the  closet. 
And  on  the  other  hand,  where,  these  duties  are  intelli- 
gently, devoutly,  and  regularly  performed,  you  may 
look  with  confidence  for  a  vigorous  tone  of  religious 
feeling,  and  a  consistent  course  of  religious  action. 

But  as  we  are  social  beings,  it  is  right  that  devotion 
should  sometimes  be  a  social  exercise  ;  and  hence  we 
find  that  God  has  instituted  the  ordinance  of  pubhc 
worship.  Where  Christians  come  together  in  the 
great  congregation,  and  there  is  the  union  of  many 
hearts,  the  flame  of  devotion  sometimes  burns  with 
peculiar  ardor,  and  the  communion  of  saints  furnishes 
some  feeble  impression  of  what  their  communion  will 


224  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

be  when  they  shall  unite  in  the  songs  of  heaven,  and 
cast  their  crowns  together  before  the  throne.  As  you 
value  the  pleasure  and  the  privilege  of  devotion,  and 
as  you  regard  the  will  and  authority  of  God,  you  will 
make  it  a  point  never,  from  any  insufficient  reason,  to 
be  absent  from  his  house.  I  say  nothing  here  of  the 
preaching  of  the  gospel,  though  this  too  is  an  ordinance 
of  divine  appointment,  and  one  of  the  most  important 
means  of  improvement  in  piety ;  but  I  speak  now  of 
public  worship  in  distinction  from  the  dispensation  of 
the  word ;  and  of  that  I  affirm  unhesitatingly,  that 
you  cannot  neglect  it,  or  engage  in  it  with  a  divided 
heart,  without  bringing  spiritual  barrenness  and  death 
into  your  soul. 

In  addition  to  the  public  devotions  of  God's  house, 
in  which  you  should  always  mingle,  unless  providen- 
tially prevented,  I  would  earnestly  recommend  the 
practice  of  meeting  occasionally  a  few  female  friends 
for  the  purpose  of  social  prayer.  The  practice  which 
has  prevailed  in  some  places,  of  females  conducting  the 
devotions  of  a  public  meeting  in  which  the  sexes  are 
indiscriminately  mingled,  seems  to  me  as  contrary  to 
Scripture  as  it  is  revolting  to  a  sense  of  propriety  ;  and 
though  I  acknowledge  there  may  be  cases  in  which  a 
pious  female  may  be  justified  in  offering  a  prayer  in 
the  presence  of  one  or  more  of  the  other  sex,  yet  I  am 
constrained  to  regard  these  cases  as  exceptions  from  a 
general  rule,  and  as  of  rather  unfrequent  occurrence. 
But  that  females  should  meet  for  social  prayer,  and 


DEVOTION.  225 

especially  in  a  small  circle — females  too  who  are  in 
the  habits  of  intimacy,  is  not  only  perfectly  consistent 
with  the  most  rigid  propriety,  but  is  due  to  the  rela- 
tion which  they  sustain  to  each  other  as  fellow-disci- 
ples of  the  Lord  Jesus.  While  such  a  habit  is  fitted 
to  strengthen  their  Christian  friendship,  and  increase 
their  interest  in  each  other's  spiritual  welfare,  it  fur- 
nishes rich  materials  for  pious  reflection,  and  renders 
their  intercourse  fruitful  in  blessings  to  themselves,  and 
it  may  be  hoped  to  others  also.  If  any  degree  of 
prejudice  has  existed  in  any  part  of  the  Christian  com- 
munity against  meetings  of  this  description,  it  is  mani- 
festly in  a  great  measure  removed ;  and  it  is  an  auspi- 
cious circumstance  that  Christian  females,  in  the  higher 
as  well  as  humbler  walks  of  life,  have  associated  so 
extensively  in  smaller  or  larger  circles  with  reference 
to  this  object. 

There  are  some  things  which  operate  as  hinderances 
to  devotion,  against  which  you  ought  to  guard  with 
unremitted  vigilance.  There  is  a  habit  of  sloth,  which 
will  inevitably  keep  the  soul  from  rising  to  God,  and 
will  render  every  spiritual  perception  indistinct,  and 
every  spiritual  exercise  feeble.  There  is  ignorance  of 
divine  truth,  which,  though  it  may  not  stand  in  the 
way  of  mere  animal  fervor,  is  fatal  to  genuine  devotion, 
inasmuch  as  it  is  the  withholding  from  it  its  proper  ali- 
ment. There  is  the  indulgence  of  wandering  thoughts, 
which  renders  what  seems  to  be  an  act  of  homage  an 
act  of  mockery.     There  is  the  neglect  of  preparatory 

Let.  to  Dauglu  ]  5 


226  LETTERS  TO  A  BAUaHTER. 

meditation,  which  makes  the  external  duty  of  prayer 
too  much  like  the  rushing  of  the  horse  into  battle. 
Many  a  Christian,  from  having  neglected  to  watch 
against  these  and  other  kindred  evils,  has  lost,  in  a 
great  measure,  the  spirit  of  devotion,  or  else  has  never 
possessed  it  but  in  so  feeble  a  degree  as  to  render  its 
very  existence  a  matter  of  question. 

In  the  exact  opposite  of  these  evils  you  may  find 
the  most  important  helps  to  devotion.  Be  careful 
then  that  you  cultivate  a  habit  of  spiritual  activity, 
and  that  your  rehgious  affections  are  kept  continually 
vigorous  by  proper  exercise.  Be  careful  that  your 
mind  is  richly  imbued  with  divine  truth,  for  it  is  this 
which  supplies  the  Christian  with  arguments  in  prayer, 
and  which  the  Holy  Spirit  uses  in  teaching  him  how 
to  pray.  Be  careful  that  you  keep  your  heart  with 
all  diligence  ;  for  a  heart  thus  kept,  awakes  as  it  were 
instinctively,  to  the  exercise  of  devotion.  Be  careful 
that  you  bring  before  your  mind,  by  meditation,  the 
various  subjects  proper  to  occupy  you  in  prayer;  for 
this  will  render  your  offering  at  once  more  intelligent, 
more  comfortable  to  yourself,  and,  as  you  have  reason 
to  believe,  more  acceptable  to  God.  Indeed  there  is 
no  Christian  duty  which  you  can  perform — ^no  Christian 
grace  which  you  can  cultivate,  but  it  is  fitted,  either 
dbectly  or  indirectly,  to  cherish  a  spirit  of  devotion  ;  for 
the  various  parts  of  the  Christian  character  are  designed 
to  have,  and  where  their  tendency  is  not  counteracted, 
actually  do  have  a  reciprocal  influence  on  each  other. 


DEVOTION.  22t 

Whether  you  have  the  spirit  of  genuine  devotion  or 
not,  you  may  ascertain  by  the  following  marks.  It 
will  lead  you  to  adore  the  perfections  and  government 
of  God;  to  rejoice  in  the  various  discoveries  of  his 
will ;  and  especially  those  which  are  made  to  us 
through  the  medium  of  his  word.  It  will  raise  your 
heart  to  him  in  grateful  acknowledgment  of  your  entire 
dependence ;  in  humble  confession  of  the  sins  of  your 
life,  and  in  devout  thanksgiving  for  the  glorious  scheme 
of  redemption  through  Christ.  It  will  lead  you  to 
intercede  for  the  whole  human  family  ;  to  pray  for  the 
universal  prevalence  of  truth  and  righteousness ;  and 
to  aim  at  a  constant  conformity  to  the  maxims  and 
principles  of  the  gospel. 

The  influence  which  a  spirit  of  devotion,  habitually 
cherished,  will  exert  upon  your  character,  happiness, 
and  usefulness,  it  is  not  easy  adequately  to  estimate. 
The  effect  of  it  will  indeed  be  to  humble  you ;  for  the 
more  the  Christian  sees  of  God,  the  more  he  is  dis- 
posed, like  Job,  to  abhor  himself,  and  repent  in  dust 
and  ashes.  But  nevertheless  it  will  serve  to  exalt 
you ;  for,  it  will  open  a  free  intercourse  between  you 
and  your  Kedeemer,  and  will  keep  you  constantly 
conversant  with  the  most  glorious  objects  and  interests 
in  the  universe.  It  will  tend  also  to  render  you  more 
pure ;  for  what  so  likely  to  effect  this  as  communion 
with  a  God  of  infinite  purity  ?  It  will  serve  to  enlarge 
your  views,  and  quicken  your  faculties,  and  animate 
you  to  the  more  faithful  discharge  of  every  part  of 


228 


LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 


jour  duty.  It  will  be  a  sure  guide  to  you  amidst 
difficulties,  it  will  bring  consolation  to  you  amidst  sor- 
rows, and  it  will  render  your  dying-bed  soft  as  downy 
pillows  are.  In  short,  it  is  emphatically  the  spirit  of 
heaven;  and  if  it  have  found  a  lodgement  in  your 
■^  heart,  it  will  accompany  you  thither,  and  find  its  ap- 
propriate element  amidst  the  harps  and  songs  and 
hallelujahs  of  the  redeemed. 

Your  ever  devoted 

FATHER. 


CHRISTIAN  BENEVOLENCE. 


229 


LETTER   XX. 


CHRISTIAN  BENEVOLENCE. 

My  dear  Child — It  is  the  tendency  of  the  gospel 
not  only  to  elevate  the  soul  to  God  by  bringing  into 
exercise  a  spirit  of  devotionj  but  to  minister  directly 
to  the  benefit  of  man,  by  exciting  and  cherishing  a 
spirit  of  benevolence.  The  disposition,  naturally  ami- 
able and  generous,  it  renders  still  more  so,  while  it 
imparts  to  its  exercises  a  rehgious  character,  by  sub- 
jecting them  to  the  control  of  principle  and  conscience. 
The  naturally  malevolent  spirit  it  subdues,  and  changes 
into  a  spirit  of  benignity  and  good  will.  It  thaws  out 
the  heart  frozen  up  by  avarice,  and  unclenches  the 
hand  which  has  been  shut  against  the  urgent  claims 
of  human  woe.  It  rebukes  an  indolent  temper,  and 
induces  a  habit  of  activity  by  writing  on  the  heart  the 
doctrine  of  human  obligation.  In  short,  wherever  the 
genuine  influence  of  the  gospel  is  felt,  there  is  a  spirit 
of  benevolence  produced  which  prompts  irresistibly  to 
a  course  of  generous  and  useful  exertion. 

That  the  effect  of  the  gospel  upon  the  human  charac- 


230  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

ter  is  as  I  have  described,  will  not  be  questioned  by 
any  person  of  common  observation  or  candor.  But 
while  it  is  readily  conceded  that  it  forms  in  the  heart 
a  spirit  of  benevolence,  the  female  sex,  up  to  a  very 
recent  period,  have,  by  a  sort  of  common  consent,  been 
in  a  great  measure  kept  out  of  the  field  in  which  this 
spirit  may  find  its  legitimate  operation.  It  is  true 
indeed,  that  not  many  years  have  elapsed  since  the 
church  has  begun  to  be  aroused  to  a  sense  of  her  obli- 
gation. Within  considerably  less  than  half  a  century, 
nearly  the  whole  of  Protestant  Christendom  seemed  to 
be  acting  upon  the  conviction  that  the  evangelizing  of 
the  world,  instead  of  being  effected  by  the  enlightened 
and  persevering  activity  of  the  church,  was  to  be  re- 
served as  a  splendid  subject  for  some  stupendous  mira- 
cle. But  for  some  time  after  the  sense  of  responsibility 
began  to  be  felt,  and  the  church  began  to  arise  and 
shake  herself  from  the  slumber  of  centuries,  it  was  still 
a  problem  in  many  minds  whether  this  were  a  proper 
field  for  the  pious  activity  of  females  ;  and  there  were 
not  a  few  who  pertinaciously  maintained  that  woman 
was  out  of  her  proper  el-ement  the  moment  she  emerged 
from  her  retirement  into  a  scene  of  pubhc  benevolent 
action.  It  was  indeed  her  privilege  to  cultivate  be- 
nevolent feelings  at  home,  and  to  dispense  charity  to 
the  needy  who  might  come  to  her  door,  and  go  out 
occasionally  on  an  exploring  tour  of  mercy  in  her  im- 
mediate neighborhood  ;  but  as  for  putting  her  hand  to 
the  great  work  of  sending  the  gospel  over  the  world, 


CHRISTIAN  BENEVOLENCE.  231 

it  was  regarded  as  something  too  bold  and  masculine 
to  consist  with  the  delicacy  of  female  character.  This 
prejudice,  I  well  know,  is  in  a  great  measure  removed, 
insomuch  that  a  female  who  imbibes  the  actively  be- 
nevolent spirit  of  the  age,  has  nothing  to  fear  from 
public  opinion ;  nevertheless,  I  doubt  not  that,  even 
at  this  day  there  are  many  who  are  kept  from  doing 
what  they  might  and  what  they  ought,  by  an  appre- 
hension not  unfrequently  encouraged  by  the  false  deli- 
cacy of  mothers,  that  if  their  activity  is  carried  beyond 
a  very  narrow  sphere  they  will  expose  themselves  to 
the  charge  of  being  obtrusive.  And  while  there  are 
some  who  urge  this  plea  with  sincerity,  yet  from  mis- 
taken views,  no  doubt  there  are  others  who  avail  them- 
selves of  it  merely  with  a  view  to  make  themselves 
easy  and  respectable  in  a  habit  of  indolent  inaction. 

I  cannot  suppose  it  necessary  at  this  day  that  I 
should  attempt  an  argument  to  convince  you  that 
females  are  acting  within  their  appropriate  sphere 
when  they  are  laboring  in  common  with  the  other  sex 
for  the  conversion  of  the  world  ;  for  I  would  fain  hope 
that  instead  of  requiring  to  be  convinced  on  this  sub- 
ject, you  have  already  learned  to  regard  it  a  privilege 
and  honor  to  labor  in  this  cause  as  God  may  give  you 
opportunity.  Nevertheless,  I  admit  that  the  fact  of 
your  belonging  to  the  female  sex  is  not  to  be  over- 
looked in  estimating  the  part  you  are  to  bear  in  these 
great  operations.  There  are  cases  in  which  it  may  be 
proper  that  both  sexes  should  cooperate  in  one  associa- 


232  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

tion  for  the  advancement  of  the  same  object ;  and  in 
every  instance  of  this  kind  propriety  requires  that 
females  should  follow  rather  than  lead:  no  matter 
how  efficient  they  are,  provided  only  they  keep  within 
proper  limits,  and  are  satisfied  that  the  business  of 
directing  and  managing  should  be  kept  in  other  hands. 
But,  in  general,  I  would  recommend  that  the  two 
sexes  should  act  for  these  objects  in  distinct  associa- 
tions, as  females  particularly  will  be  likely  in  this 
way  to  act  with  greater  freedom  and  efficiency.  Even 
here,  you  should  of  course  be  on  your  guard  against 
assuming  any  thing  that  does  not  belong  to  you ; 
though  you  should  be  equally  cautious,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  you  do  not,  from  false  modesty,  decline  any 
responsibility  which  you  really  ought  to  assume. 

That  some  of  the  great  objects  of  the  present  day 
may  enlist  the  influence  and  activity  of  females  more 
appropriately  than  others,  admits  not  of  question  ;  and 
if  there  are  any  which  claim  their  regard  before  all 
others,  perhaps  they  are  those  which  more  immediately 
involve  the  well-being  of  their  own  sex.  But  I  know 
not  whether  there  are  scarcely  any  of  the  common 
charities  of  the  day  in  which  female^  may  not  with 
strict  propriety  bear  a  part.  They  may  associate  for 
the  circulation  of  the  Bible,  for  the  distribution  of 
Tracts,  for  the  education  of  young  men  for  the  Chris- 
tian ministry,  for  carrying  forward  missionary  opera- 
tions, or  for  any  kindred  object,  and  be  as  little  liable 
to  the  charge  of  acting  out  of  their  appropriate  sphere, 


CHRISTIAN  BENEVOLENCE.  233 

as  if  they  were  performing  the  most  retired  duties  of 
domestic  Hfe.  In  questions  of  mere  pohtical  reform,  I 
do  not  think  it  the  province  of  females  to  take  a  de- 
cided part :  not  that  I  would  prohibit  them  in  all 
cases  from  expressing  an  opinion,  but  I  would  object 
entirely  to  any  thing  that  even  appears  like  active 
interference.  If  they  are  to  exert  any  influence  in  this 
department,  it  should  be  of  the  most  silent  and  unob- 
trusive kind.  But  as  to  those  objects  which  relate 
merely  to  the  moral  and  religious  improvement  of  the 
world,  just  so  far  as  public  sentiment  should  prevent 
their  taking  a  part,  it  would  be  chargeable  with  a 
shameful  abridgment  of  their  rights. 

In  what  I  have  already  said,  it  has  been  implied 
that  females  are  to  contribute  not  only  their  influence, 
but  their  substance  for  the  advancement  of  the  Re- 
deemer's cause  ;  inasmuch  ^s  the  great  work  will  never 
go  forward  without  an  immense  amountof  pecuniary  aid. 
How  much  you  shall  give  is  a  question  to  be  answered 
by  an  enlightened  conscience,  in  view  of  the- means 
with  which  God  has  blessed  you.  But  in  forming  the 
estimate  of  your  duty  in  this  respect,  take  heed  that 
you  are  not  misled  by  a  disposition  to  indulge  the 
pride  of  life ;  and  as  the  case  may  be,  do  not  regard 
some  little  retrenchment  from  your  personal  expenses 
a  hardship,  for  the  sake  of  casting  more  liberally  into 
the  treasury  of  the  Lord.  And  while  you  should 
make  it  a  matter  of  conscience  to  give  to  the  extent 
of  your  means,  you  should  also  exercise  discretion  in 


234  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

apportioning  your  contributions  to  different  objects 
according  to  their  relative  importance.  A  small  con- 
tribution made  with  good  judgment  as  it  respects  the 
object,  the  time,  and  the  manner,  may  be  instrumental 
of  more  good  than  a  much  larger  one  made  from  the 
mere  impulse  of  a  generous  spirit,  without  discrimina- 
tion and  without  reflection. 

In  connection  with  the  great  benevolent  operations 
of  the  age,  in  which  I  trust  you  will  never  be  backward 
to  enlist,  let  me  mention  what  may  at  first  appear  a 
somewhat  humbler  sphere  of  female  usefulness.  I 
mean  the  Sabbath-school.  From  the  time  that  you 
cease  to  be  connected  with  this  institution  as  a  pupil, 
I  would  have  you  connected  with  it  as  a  teacher  ;  and 
if  you  discharge  your  duty  faithfully,  I  may  safely  say 
that  your  labors  in  this  department  will  be  as  likely  to 
draw  after  them  a  blessidg  as  in  any  other.  The 
good  which  female  inflaence  has  already  accomplished 
by  means  of  this  unostentatious  institution,  it  is  beyond 
the  power  of  the  human  mind  adequately  to  estimate  ; 
and  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  Sabbath-schools  are 
to  hold  an  important  place  in  the  moral  machinery  by 
which  the  world  is  to  be  regenerated.  However  hum- 
ble may  seem  the  employment  of  teaching  a  few  chil- 
dren every  Sabbath  a  lesson  from  the  sacred  Scriptures, 
you  are  probably  doing  more,  at  least  in  many  cases, 
by  this  simple  exercise,  to  train  them  for  usefulness 
and  for  heaven,  than  is  done  by  all  other  means  united. 
But  in  order  that  you  may  accomplish  all  the  good  of 


CHRISTIAN  BENEVOLENCE.  235 

which  this  institution  is  designed  to  be  the  medium,  take 
care  that  you  do  your  whole  duty  in  connection  with 
the  Sabbath-school  with  scrupulous  fidelity.  Let  the 
grand  object  at  which  you  aim  be,  not  only  to  imbue 
the  minds  of  your  pupils  with  scriptural  knowledge, 
but  to  imbue  their  hearts  with  evangelical  feeling ;  in 
short,  to  make  them  practical  Bible  Christians.  It  is 
a  mistaken  principle  upon  which  not  only  much  of  the 
instruction  of  the  Sabbath-school,  but  of  the  family, 
has  been  conducted,  that  young  children  are  incapable 
of  being  the  subjects  of  converting  grace.  A  sounder 
doctrine  on  this  subject  is  indeed  beginning  to  prevail ; 
and  both  parents  and  Sabbath-school  teachers  are 
learning  from  experience  that  there  is  a  more  im- 
pressive meaning  than  they  once  supposed  in  the 
Saviour's  declaration,  ''  Suffer  Httle  children  to  come 
unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  king- 
dom of  heaven."  Let  the  instruction  that  is  commu- 
nicated in  the  Sabbath-school  be  entirely  evangelical, 
and  let  it  be  accompanied  from  time  to  time,  with 
tender  and  solemn  appeals  to  the  heart  and  conscience, 
and  there  is  good  reason  to  expect  that  such  a  course 
of  efforts  will  result  in  a  genuine  conversion ;  and  let 
the  truth  still  be  impressed  from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath, 
upon  the  mind  and  heart,  and  let  there  be  direct 
counsels  and  warnings  adapted  to  the  circumstances 
of  the  case,  and  it  is  reasonable  and  scriptural  to  be- 
lieve, that  there  will  be  formed,  even  in  the  morning 
of  life,  a  stable  and  consistent  Christian  character.    It 


236  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

would  seem  from  some  of  the  prophecies,  that,  previous 
to  the  opening  of  the  millennium,  the  influences  of  the 
Spirit  are  to  be  plentifully  poured  out  for  the  conver- 
sion of  children  and  youth ;  and  if  I  do  not  greatly 
mistake  the  signs  of  the  times,  these  prophecies  are 
already  beginning  to  be  fulfilled,  in  the  signal  success 
that  attends  the  Sabbath-school  institution. . 

There  is  one  part  of  the  duty  of  a  Sabbath-school 
teacher  for  which  females  are  especially  qualified — 
that  of  finding  out  and  gathering  into  this  nursery  of 
Christian  charity  the  children  of  the  wretched  and 
destitute.  With  more  of  constitutional  tenderness 
than  belongs  to  the  other  sex,  they  can  more  readily 
gain  access  to  the  hearts  of  parents,  and  are  more 
likely  to  overcome  obstacles  which  may  be  thrown  in 
their  way.  And  the  visits  which  they  make  for  the 
purpose  of  bringing  in  children  from  the  haunts  of  vice 
and  misery,  may,  if  properly  conducted,  in  some  in- 
stances at  least,  subserve  the  additional  purpose  of 
communicathig  good  impressions  to  the  parents,  and 
even  of  making  them  regular  attendants  at  the  house 
of  God.  There  have  been  repeated  instances  in  which 
a  young  female,  not  in  the  highest  walks  of  life,  by 
faithfully  discharging  her  duty  as  a  Sabbath-school 
teacher,  both  in  the  school  and  out  of  it,  has  been 
honored  as  the  instrument  of  conversion  to  a  whole 
family,  and  that  too  a  family  which  had  been  sunk  in 
the  lowest  moral  debasement.  Surely  such  facts 
ought  to  encourage  every  young  female  who  has  it  in 


CHRISTIAN  BENEVOLENCE.  237 

her  power  to  engage  in  the  Sabbath-school  enterprise, 
and  to  discharge  even  those  parts  of  her  duty  which 
involve  the  most  self-denial,  with  alacrity  and  diligence. 
Perhaps  there  has  been  no  individual  in  modern 
times  to  whom  the  church  is  more  indebted  for  elevat- 
ing the  standard  of  benevolent  enterprise  in  the  female 
sex,  than  Harriet  Newell.  When  she  formed  the 
resolution  to  encounter  the  hardships  of  a  missionary 
life  in  a  heathen  land,  there  were  not  wanting  those, 
even  among  professed  Christians,  to  whom  the  project 
seemed  Uke  the  ojffspring  of  fanaticism,  and  who  re- 
garded her,  when  she  took  leave  of  her  country  and 
kindred,  as.  having  well-nigh  parted  with  her  reason. 
But  none  of  these  things  moved  her.  With  a  firmness 
and  disinterestedness  of  purpose  which  religion  alone 
could  inspire,  she  turned  her  back  upon  all  the  endear- 
ments of  home,  and  after  encountering  in  a  long  voy- 
age the  perils  of  the  deep,  reached  the  anticipated, 
field  of  her  labors.  But  instead  of  meeting  there  the 
fatigues,  and  deprivations  usually  incident  to  missionary 
life,  she  found,  upon  her  first  arrival,  that  the  hand  of 
death  was  upon  her,  and  she  was  sinking  suddenly, 
though  calmly,  to  her  rest.  But  rely  on  it,  she  did 
not  cross  the  ocean  and  make  her  grave  in  that  foreign 
land  to  no  purpose.  It  looked  at  first  like  a  dark  dis- 
pensation, and  when  it  was  announced,  it  seemed  as  if 
the  whole  American  church  was  in  tears.  But  long 
isince  has  the  church  been  taught  to  contemplate  it  as 
marking  one  of  the  brightest  eras  in  the  history  of  her 


238  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

missionary  operations.  The  example  of  this  devoted 
woman  gave  a  new  impulse  to  female  effort  in  the 
cause  of  Christ.  Multitudes  of  her  sex  have  in  imagina- 
tion visited  her  distant  grave,  and  have  felt  their  hearts 
kindle  with  brighter  and  holier  zeal ;  and  while  some 
have  followed  her  in  the  same  enterprise,  and  have 
actually  laid  down  their  lives  on  the  same  field,  others 
have  engaged  with  renewed  activity  in  the  cause  of 
their  Redeemer  at  home,  and  stand  ready  to  make 
any  sacrifice  which  the  honor  of  his  name  may  require 
of  them.  The  memory  of  Harriet  Newell  is  embalmed 
in  thousands  of  hearts,  and  no  doubt  her  name  will 
stand  on  ''bright  record"  through  the  ages  of  the  mil- 
lennium ;  and  will  shine  with  the  lustre  of  the  firma- 
ment when  it  shall  be  displayed  in  the  Lamb's  book 
of  life. 

I  know  not  how  to  form  a  greater  contrast  than 
must  exist  between  the  dying-bed  of  a  female  such  as 
I  have  described,  and  one  who  has  lived  only  for  pur- 
poses of  self-gratification.  Can  you  conceive,  on  the 
one  hand,  of  any  thing  more  delightful  than  to  look 
back  from  a  death-bed  upon  a  series  of  pious  efforts 
for  the  advancement  of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom  ;  to 
think  that  those  efforts  may  have  been  instrumental 
in  opening  fountains  of  salvation  in  heathen  lands  ;  to 
feel  all  the  composure  and  joy  which  the  approaching 
dawn  of  immortality  can  shed  over  the  heart ;  and  to 
look  forward  to  a  crown  of  victory  studded  with  innu- 
merable gems,  in  each  of  which  you  may  recognize  the 


CHRISTIAN  BENEVOLENCE.  239 

ransomed  soul  of  a  once  perishing  heathen  ?  And  on 
the  other  hand,  can  you  conceive  of  any  thing  more 
dreadful  than  to  review  from  the  gates  of  the  grave  a 
life  full  of  trifling  and  vanity ;  to  reflect  that  the  world 
is  not  the  better  but  the  worse  for  your  having  lived 
in  it ;  and  to  be  haunted  by  the  ghosts  of  departed 
and  misspent  years,  which  come  up  in  frightful  suc- 
cession to  give  you  a  deeper  chill  of  horror  in  the  val- 
ley of  death  ?  If  there  be  any  thing  alluring  or  any 
thing  appalling  in  this  contrast,  then  choose  the  hfe  of 
the  active  Christian,  that  you  may  share  in  his  present 
consolation,  and  reap  his  eternal  reward. 
Your  truly  affectionate 

FATHER. 


240  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 


CHRISTIAN  ZEAL. 


My  dear  Child — There  is  a  perpetual  tendency  in 
human  nature,  as  well  with  respect  to  religion  as  every- 
thing else,  to  rush  into  extremes.  And  perhaps  there 
is  nothing  in  which  this  tendency  is  more  strikingly 
manifested,  than  in  the  disposition  to  magnify  one  part 
of  Christian  character  at  the  expense  of  another. 
Thqre  are  those  who  make  the  whole  of  religion  consist 
in  devotional  fervor ;  and  by  keeping  it  constantly 
shut  up  in  the  closet,  they  render  it  sickly  and  inefficient. 
And  there  are  thcfSe  who  make  it  consist  entirely  in 
the  stir  of  public  action ;  who  seem  to  regard  the 
private  duties  of  the  Christian  as  somewhat  puritani- 
cal ;  as  though  they  might  have  been  well  enough 
in  other  days,  but  in  the  present  age  of  action  have 
become  in  some  measure  outlawed.  It  hence  results, 
that  much  of  religion  that  exists  in  the  world  is  partial ; 
and  much  of  it,  for  the  same  reason,  spurious.    . 

Now  what  has  happened  to  every  other  grace  of 
the  Christian  has  happened  to  zeal — it  has  sometimes 
been  elevated  to  a  precedence  not  only  above  all  the 
other  graces,  but  at  the  expense  of  all  the  rest ;  as  if 


CHRISTIAN  ZEAL.  241 

it  were  the  sum  and  substance  of  Christian  character. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  has  been  looked  upon  with 
suspicion,  and  been  confounded  with  enthusiasm,  and 
the  first  appearance  of  it  has  been  a  signal  for  alarm, 
as  if  the  church  were  falling  into  a  fit  of  insanity.  I 
shall  hope  to  show  you,  in  the  progress  of  this  letter, 
that  while  true  zeal  is  absolutely  indispensable  to  a 
Christian,  it  still  leaves  room  for  the  operation  of  other 
graces  and  virtues ;  and  that  noble  and  heavenly  as 
is  the  genuine  quality,  there  may  be  much  that  assumes 
the  name,  which,  to  say  the  least,  will  be  treated  as 
wood,  hay,  and  stubble. 

Christian  zeal  may  be  defined  in  a  single  sentence 
as  a  sincere  and  warm  concern  for  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  spiritual  interest  of  mankind.  Let  me  call 
your  attention  more  particularly  to  some  of  its  leading 
attributes. 

It  can  be  scarcely  necessary  that  I  should  remark 
that  it  is  a  spiritual  affection.  There  is  a  warm  glow 
of  animal  feeling  which  results  entirely  from  constitu- 
tional temperament,  and  which  there  is  great  danger, 
in  certain  circumstances,  of  mistaking  for  Christian 
zeal.  If  it  happens  to  be  directed  towards  a  good 
object,  as  it  sometimes  is,  it  may  actually  accomplish 
great  good,  and  may  work  its  way  through  obstacles 
of  an  appalling  nature,  and  will  not  improbably  shame 
some  of  the  more  feeble  operations  of  evangelical  zeal. 
But  if  the  object  at  which  it  aims  is  bad,  why  then  its 
effects  will  be  bad  too  :  it  will  be  as  furious  and  deso- 

Let.  to  Daueh.  1  6 


242  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

lating  as  a  whirlwind.  It  may  be  enlisted,  you  per- 
ceive, in  a  good  cause  or  in  an  evil  cause;  but  not 
being  under  the  control  of  principle,  it  can  never  be 
trusted. 

Christian  zeal,  though  it  may  be  modified  in  its 
operations  by  constitutional  temperament,  yet  is  some- 
thing entirely  distinct  from  this:  it  belongs  to  man 
only  in  his  renewed  state.  It  is  not  one  of  the  original 
qualities  which  man  receives  from  God  the  Creator, 
but  one  of  the  spiritual  gifts  which  he  receives  from 
God  the  Sanctifier.  It  is  as  truly  a  Christian  grace 
as  faith,  or  humility,  or  love  to  God. 

It  is  another  of  its  characteristics  that  it  is  con- 
cerned about  objects  of  real  moment.  There  is  a  zeal 
which  exhausts  itself  upon  rites  and  forms,  and  lives 
in  the  region  of  airy  speculations  and  doubtful  enter- 
prises. Christian  zeal,  on  the  other  hand,  aims  directly 
at  the  noblest  objects  and  interests  in  the  universe. 
It  surveys  a  world  lying  in  wickedness,  exposed  to 
God's  everlasting  curse  ;  it  sees  on  every  side  a  multi- 
tude of  souls  enthralled  by  the  prince  of  darkness,  and 
liable  to  sink  under  his  withering  frown ;  and  it 
stretches  out  the  hand  of  compassion  to  avert,  if  pos- 
sible, the  threatening  woes,  to  hedge  up  the  path  to 
destruction,  and  turn  the  footsteps  of  the  multitude 
into  the  path  of  life.  And  it  is  concerned  for  the  glory 
of  God  not  less  than  the  happiness  of  man.  It  remem- 
bers that  in  every  instance  in  which  the  redemption  of 
the  gospel  takes  effect,  there  comes  a  revenue  of  glory 


CHRISTIAN  ZEAL.  243 

to  God  in  the  highest ;  and  it  desires  to  witness  con- 
stantly brighter  exhibitions  of  that  glory — to  behold 
the  Saviour  travelling  in  the  greatness  of  his  strength, 
and  gathering  gems  to  his  mediatorial  crown.  Yes,  it 
lifts  itself  in  its  sublime  aspirations  to  the  very  throne 
of  God,  and  longs  and  labors  for  the  advancement  of 
all  the  great  and  holy  interests  of  his  kingdom. 

Christian  zeal  is  an  enlightened  principle.  He  who 
is  under  its  influence  takes  an  intelligent  view  of  the 
great  objects  he  desires  to  see  accompHshed,  and  de- 
liberately satisfies  himself  of  their  real  importance.  H& 
takes  a  similar  view  of  the  means  to  be  employed  for 
their  accomplishment,  and  decides  that  they  are  such 
as  reason  and  conscience  and  God  can  approve.  And 
he  not  only  consults  faithfully  the  oracles  of  God,  but 
seeks  direct  illumination  from  above,  that  in  every  step 
he  may  be  guided  by  heavenly  wisdom ;  and  in  the 
most  fervent  operations  of  his  zeal,  he  is  never  for  an 
hour  beyond  the  dominion  of  sober  and  enlightened 
judgment.  There  is  a  zeal  which  is  not  according  to 
knowledge ;  which  is  blind  in  its  operations,  and  dis- 
astrous in  its  results.  But  I  hardly  need  say  that  it 
has  no  afiSnity  to  the  genuine  Christian  grace. 
.  Christian  zeal  is  earnest.  It  is  not  a  mere  casual 
emotion,  so  feeble  that  it  may  exist  while  the  mind 
is  scarcely  conscious  of  it ;  but  it  is  a  deep,  strong, 
settled  principle,  which  pervades  in  its  operations  the 
whole  soul,  and  awakens  the  moral  sensibilities  into 
lively  exercise.    The  person  who  is  under  its  influence 


244  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

has  not  only  an  intellectual,  but  a  practical  conviction 
that  the  salvation  of  sinners  and  the  interests  of  Christ^s 
kingdom  are  matters  of  the  deepest  moment ;  and  with 
this  conviction  he  is  earnestly  desirous  that  they  should 
be  promoted ;  and  sometimes  cannot  even  rest,  or 
scarcely  suffer  others  to  rest,  so  long  as  these  objects 
are  regarded  with  indifference. 

I  know  that  many  of  the  careless  world,  and  even 
some  professing  Christians,  whose  hearts  are  bound  up  • 
in  the  frost  of  rehgious  apathy,  will  stigmatize  every 
appearance  of  Christian  zeal  as  fanaticism.  But  I 
ask,  For  what  objects  it  is  reasonable  to  be  in  earnest, 
if  not  for  the  salvation  of  men  and  the  glory  of  God  ? 
When  you  contemplate  the  fearful  import  of  that  word 
eternity,  and  think  what  it  must  be  to  inherit  ever- 
lasting joys  or  to  inhabit  everlasting  burnings ;  and 
how  many  there  are  on  every  side  who  are  manifestly 
rushing  towards  the  pit — I  ask  whether  the  lack  of 
earnestness  in  these  circumstances  would  not  indicate 
infatuation  ?  Christian  ^eal  is  earnest ;  and  this  is  one 
of  the  reasons  why  it  is  rational.  It  views  things  as 
they  are,  and  treats  them  accordingly.^ 

Bat  it  is  active,  as  well  as  earnest.  It  is  not  uncom- 
mon to  meet  with  a  kind  of  zeal  that  expends  itself  in 
words — that  is  satisfied  with  deploring  the  spiritual 
lethargy,  or  talking  about  the  importance  of  a  revival, 
or  wishing  well  to  the  benevolent  enterprises  of  the  day. 
It  has  a  tongue,  but  it  seems  to  have  little  of  heart, 
and  certainly  it  is  halt  and  maimed.    Christian  zeal 


CHRISTIAN  ZEAL.  245 

can -and  does  feel,  and  it  can  talk  too  where  there  is 
occasion,  but  it  goes  yet  further  and  acts — acts  with 
vigor  and  efiBciency.  He  who  has  it  comes  forward  as 
it  were  instinctively  to  the  work  of  the  Lord ;  and 
whether  it  be  his  substance,  or  his  efforts,  or  his 
prayers,  that  are  demanded,  the  contribution  is  made, 
and  made  cheerfully.  This  is  the  spirit  which  you  see 
acted  out  in  the  lives  of  many  of  our  missionaries,  and 
even  some  of  your  own  sex,  who  voluntarily  surrender 
all  the  blessings  of  civilized  society,  and  make  their 
home  in 'a  wilderness  or  a  heathen  land,  and  wear  life 
away  in  the  most  self-denying  efforts  for  the  salvation 
of  their  fellow-creatures.  Here  you  see  the  activity  of 
Christian  zeal,  a  spirit  which  has  its  only  proper 
element  amidst  the  wants  and  miseries  of  this  ruined 
world. 

But  notwithstanding  its  activity.  Christian  zeal  is 
humble  and  unobtrusive.  It  does  not  indeed  shrink 
from  publicity  where  there  is  just  occasion  for  making 
itself  public ;  and  such  occasions  no  doubt  will  often 
occur ;  but  it  does  nothing  merely  to  attract  observa- 
tion. Even  its  highest  and  holiest  triumphs  are  some- 
times obtained  in  circumstances  of  retirement ;  and  it 
takes  no  pains  to  trumpet  them,  even  if  they  are  never 
heard  of  by  the  world.  Let  the  Christian  accomplish 
as  much  by  his  zeal  as  he  may,  even  though  the  whole 
moral  region  around  him  should  smile  under  his  influ- 
ence, he  remembers  that  by  the  grace  of  God  he  is 
what  he  is,  and  that  by  the  grace  of  God  he  does  what 


246  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

he  does ;  and  he  chooses  to  give  God  all  the  glory, 
and  to  sink  down  before  him  as  an  unworthy  instru- 
ment. Whenever  you  see  an  individual  glorying  in 
what  he  has  himself  accomplished,  and  apparently 
forgetting  that  in  all  his  efforts  he  is  entirely  dependent 
on  the  mfluence  of  tha  Spirit,  whatever  of  apparent 
zeal  there  may  be,  you  have  great  reason  to  question 
its  origin :  you  have  reason  to  suspect  that  instead  of 
being  a  flame  kindled  from  above,  it  is  of  the  earth, 
earthy  ;  or  that  it  originated  in  a  spark  from  the  world 
below. 

Christian  zeal  is  discreet,  and  has  respect  to  circum- 
stances. I  do  not  mean  that  it  admits  of  a  temporizing 
policy  which  will  sacrifice  principle  ;  nor  a  timid  policy 
which  makes  one  walk  so  softly  that  not  only  his  foot- 
steps are  never  heard,  but  his  influence  is  never  felt ; 
but  I  mean  that  it  is  watchful  in  respect  to  circum- 
stances and  seasons,  while  it  endeavors,  so  far  as  pos- 
sible, to  make  every  thing  subservient  to  the  great  end 
of  doing  good.  It  does  not  make  a  Christian  regard- 
less of  the  common  proprieties  of  life ;  it  does  not 
decide  that  the  same  measures  shall  be  adopted  at  all 
times  without  regard  to  circumstances ;  it  does  not 
sanction  the  maxun  that  the  end  justifies  the  means, 
or  that  it  is  no  matter  whether  we  obey  the  directions 
in  God's  word  or  not,  provided  only  the  object  we 
have  in  view  is  attained  ;  no,  the  dictates  of  Christian 
zeal  are  far  enough  from  all  this :  while  it  inspires 
firmness  and  fearlessness  and  unyielding  resolution,  it 


CHRISTIAN  ZEAL.  241 

dictates  a  spirit  of  caution,  lest  by  some  ill-directed 
effort  the  cause  should  be  injured.  The  grand  object 
it  has  in  view  is  to  accomplish  the  utmost  good  by  the 
very  means  which  God  has  prescribed;  and  rather 
than  lose  sight  of  that  object,  it  will  consent  to  be 
nicknamed  apathy,  or  worldly  prudence,  or  any  other 
opprobrious  epithet  which  may  be  applied  to  it. 

Christian  zeal  is  affectionate.  The  person  who  is 
animated  by  it  will  not  indeed  shrink  from  the  most 
selt-denying  duties.  One  of  the  most  self-denying,  in 
many  cases,  is  that  of  expostulating  with  ungodly 
friends  in  respect  to  their  salvation  ;  but  true  zeal  will 
carry  a  person  forward  to  the  discharge  of  this,  even 
in  the  most  embarrassing  circumstances.  But  while  it 
will  cause  him  to  deal  honestly  and  faithfully,  it  will 
breathe  into  his  counsels  and  warnings  the  genuine 
spirit  of  Christian  tenderness ;  and  he  will  show  by 
his  whole  manner  that  in  all  that  he  does  he  is  influ- 
enced by  feelings  of  benevolence  and  compassion,  by 
an  earnest  desire  to  deliver  the  individual  from  the 
greatest  possible  evils,  and  to  confer  upon  him  the 
greatest  possible  blessings.  And  let  me  say  that  the 
tenderness  of  Christian  zeal  does  more  to  render  it 
efficient  than  almost  any  other  attribute.  It  is  this 
especially  which  opens  a  way  into  the  heart  for  the 
entrance  of  divine  truth — which  often  gains  a  complete 
triumph,  where  the  mere  energy  of  zeal  would  accom- 
plish nothing. 

Christian  zeal  is  consistent.     It  is  a  truly  painful 


248  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

exhibition,  where  we  see  professing  Christians  acting 
earnestly,  and  apparently  feeling  deeply  in  reference 
to  some  one  object,  and  manifesting  an  entire  apathy 
in  regard  to  others  of  equal  importance.  There  are 
those,  for  instance,  who  manifest  great  zeal  in  promoting 
the  benevolent  operations  of  the  day,  who  yet  take  no 
interest  in  seeing  religion  revived  in  their  immediate 
neighborhood.  There  are  those,  again,  who  seem  to  be  * 
ever  awake  to  the  importance  of  a  revival,  who  are 
shamefully  negligent  in  respect  to  their  own  families, 
and  communicate  far  less  religious  instruction  to  their 
children  than  some  parents  who  make  no  pretensions  to 
piety.  And  there  are  those,  though  the  fact  may  seem 
almost  incredible,  who  always  make  conscience  of  being 
present  at  every  social  meeting,  and  are  ever  ready  to 
take  part  in  its  exercises,  who  yet  have  very  Httle  to 
do  with  theb  own  closets,  and  attend  with  great  irregu- 
larity upon  family  devotion.  Now  all  this  partial 
zeal,  to  say  the  least,  looks  suspicious.  True  Christian 
zeal  differs  from  this,  inasmuch  as  it  directs  itself  to 
the  whole  circle  of  Christian  duties.  He  who  is  under 
its  influence,  is  indeed  zealous  for  the  promotion  of  the 
benevolent  enterprises  of  the  day ;  but  this  does  not 
prevent  him  from  taking  a  deep  interest  in  a  revival 
of  religion.  He  is  zealous  in  cooperating  with  the 
Holy  Spirit  for  the  salvation  of  sinners  around  him ; 
but  this  does  not  at  all  interfere  with  his  desires  and 
efforts  to  advance  the  spiritual  interests  of  his  own 
family.     He  is  zealous  for  supporting  rehgious  meet- 


CHRISTIAN  ZEAL.  249 

ings,  not  only  by  his  presence,  but  so  far  as  he  is  able, 
by  his  direct  aid ;  but  he  is  not  the  less  careful  to 
discharge  the  duties  of  the  closet  regularly  and  dc 
voutly,  remembering  that  if  the  closet  is  neglected  all 
the  noise  and  stir  he  may  make  about  revivals,  or  in 
connection  with  revivals,  is  mere  religious  dissipation. 
He  is  zealous  in  all  the  relations  of  life.  As  a  parent, 
he  is  zealous  for  the  salvation  of  his  children.  As  a 
neighbor,  he  is  zealous  for  those  around  him.  As  a 
member  of  the  church,  he  is  zealous  for  its  prosperity. 
As  a  creature  of  God,  redeemed  by  the  blood  of  his 
Son,  he  is  zealous  for  the  promotion  of  his  glory.  This 
is  the  consistency  of  Christian  zeal,  another  attribute 
which  imparts  to  it  much  of  its  loveliness  and  of  its 
power. 

And  to  crown  all.  Christian  zeal  is  persevering.  It 
is  too  much  the  fashion  of  the  age  to  wake  up  and  be 
very  active,  and  perhaps  even  boisterous  for  a  little 
season,  and  then  to  relapse  quietly  into  the  slumber  of 
death ;  as  if  during  this  season  of  excitement  some 
work  of  supererogation  had  been  performed,  by  means 
of  which  had  been  purchased  the  privilege  of  a  dis- 
pensation from  all  religious  feeling  and  action,  at  least 
for  a  considerable  period.  And  then  begins  the  round 
of  worldliness  and  of  gayety,  and  of  communion  with 
those  scenes  which  are  fitted  to  make  the  cause  of  re- 
ligion bleed ;  and  here  is  presented  to  the  world — -to 
a  world  which  would  gladly  find  a  stumbling-block  in 
every  professor — ^the  sad  spectacle  of  a. professed  disci- 


250  LETTEUS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

pie  of  Christ,  who  was  lately  seen  apparently  burning 
with  zeal  for  the  salvation  of  souls,  as  dead  as  a  tenant 
of  the  grave.  I  stop  not  to  inquire  what  must  be  the 
effect  of  such  an  example — I  only  say  that  this  is  not 
the  zeal  which  the  Bible  requires  ;  and  though  I  dare 
not  say  that  true  Christian  zeal,  owing  to  the  imper- 
fection of  human  nature,  may  not  be  in  some  degree 
fluctuating,  yet  just  in  proportion  as  it  has  this  charac- 
ter it  becomes  justly  liable  to  suspicion.  The  zeal 
which  is  according  to  knowledge,  and  which  is  one  of 
the  graces  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  is  a  flame  which  holds 
on  and  holds  out,  and  burns  brighter  and  brighter 
unto  the  perfect  day. 

Though  I  have  dwelt  at  so  much  length  on  the 
nature  of  Christian  zeal,  I  am  unwilling  to  dismiss  the 
subject  without  suggesting  a  few  things  to  enforce  its 
importance. 

Let  me  say  then,  that  it  is  important  as  it  stands 
connected  with  the  evidence  of  personal  piety.  It  is 
not  easy,  I  acknowledge,  to  say  to  what  extent  an 
individual  may  be  deficient  in  this  grace,  and  yet  be  a 
true  Christian ;  but  that  some  degree  of  it  is  essential  to 
Christian  character,  admits  of  no  question  ;  -and  if  you 
possess  it  in  only  a  feeble  measure,  so  that  its  existence 
shall  be  a  matter  of  doubt,  your  evidences,  to  say  the 
least,  must  be  far  from  being  satisfactory.  You  may 
be  saved  at  the  last,  but  you  cannot  consistently  in- 
dulge more  than  a  faint  and  trembling  hope  of  salva- 
tion.   Do  you  desire  to  have  bright  evidence  that  you 


CHRISTIAN  ZEAL.  251 

are  to  dwell  with  God  for  ever?  Then  rise  up  to  a 
high  tone  of  Christian  zeal. 

But  this  grace  has  much  to  do  with  religious  enjoy- 
ment. This  indeed  may  be  inferred  from  the  remark 
already  made ;  for  the  Christian's  enjoyment  is  so  in- 
timately connected  with  his  evidences,  that  whatever 
obscures  the  latter,  must,  in  the  same  degree,  diminish 
the  former.  But  the  point  to  which  I  here  especially 
refer  is,  that  Christian  zeal  is  necessary  to  the  free  and 
comfortable  discharge  of  duty.  Without  it  I  know  it 
is  possible  to  go  through  a  round  of  external  duties,  to 
be  in  the  church  and  the  prayer-meeting,  and  even  in 
the  closet  at  stated  seasons,  and  occasionally  to  drop 
a  word  of  warning  upon  the  ear  of  a  sinner,  and  put 
forth  a  hand  to  move  forward  the  great  moral  machinery 
of  the  age  ;  but  it  will  be  more  like  a  reluctant  service 
rendered  to  a  taskmaster,  than  the  cheerful  homage  of 
filial  affection.  On  the  other  hand,  let  the  heart  glow 
with  Christian  zeal,  and  the  hands  will  of  course  be 
nerved  for  Christian  effort ;  even  the  most  difficult 
duties  will  become  easy,  and  the  most  appalling  ob- 
stacles will  vanish.  Whoever  then  would  perform  the 
duties  and  endure  the  trials  of  the  religious  life  with 
ease  and  comfort,  must  become  richly  imbued  with 
Christian  zeal. 

And  this  grace  is  not  less  essential  to  the  Christianas 
usefulness  than  to  his  enjoyment.  For  without  zeal  or 
with  little  of  it,  supposing  him  to  be  a  Christian,  how 
limited  will  be  the  good  which  he  will  accomplish  I 


252  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

Admitting  that  he  is  to  be  saved  himself,  yet  perhaps 
not  a  smgle  soul  will  be  saved  by  his  instrumentality. 
Who  is  the  individual  that  exerts  an  influence  in 
raising  the  tone  of  public  morals  by  purifying  and 
elevating  public  sentiment?  It  is  he  whose  heart  is 
fired  with  Christian  zeal.  Who  is  the  person  to  be 
instrumental  in  producing  or  sustaining  a  revival  of 
religion ;  or  in  sending  the  gospel  abroad  to  the  desti- 
tute ;  or  in  carrying  forward  any  of  the  high  and  holy 
operations  connected  with  the  kingdom  of  Christ  ?  It 
is  the  Christian  who  is  full  of  holy  zeal.  And  who 
are  they  who  in  coming  years  are  to  be  honored  with 
the  chief  instrumentality  in  the  conversion  of  the  world  ? 
Who  are  they  that  will  be  greeted  as  having  done 
most  for  Christ  when  the  glories  of  the  millennial 
morning  shall  be  spread  over  the  earth  ?  I  tell  you, 
they  are  your  truly  zealous  Christians — men  and 
women  who  were  not  afraid  of  being  bold  lest  they 
should  be  accounted  rash,  oi:  prudent  lest  they  should 
be  accounted  timid,  or  earnest  lest  they  should  be  called 
fanatics.  If  you  desire  to  have  a  part  in  bringing 
God's  glorious  purposes  to  their  accomplishment — if 
you  desire  to  escape  the  doom  of  the  slothful  servant, 
and  to  appear  at  last  to  have  lived  for  the  benefit  of 
your  fellow-creatures  and  the  glory  of  God,  be  fer- 
vently zealous  ui  the  Kedeemer^s  cause. 

I  will  only  add  that  this  grace  is  important  as  it 
stands  connected  with  the  Christian's  final  reward. 
True  it  is  that  reward  is  of  grace,  and  not  of  debt. 


CHRISTIAN  ZEAL.  253 

Even  the  brightest  crown  that  shall  sparkle  through 
all  the  ranks  of  the  redeemed,  will  be  altogether  the 
purchase  of  the  Redeemer's  blood,  and  in  no  sense  the 
earnings  of  human  merit.  Nevertheless,  the  crowns 
of  heaven  will  be  distributed  according  to  what  each 
has  been  and  done  in  the  service  of  Christ.  That 
Christian  who  has  been  actuated  during  a  whole  life 
by  a  glowing  zeal  for  the  salvation  of  men  and  the 
honor  of  the  Redeemer,  will  shine  as  the  brightness  of 
the  firmament,  while  the  more  sluggish  Christian  will 
be  saved  so  as  by  fire.  Do  you  desire  then  not  only 
to  inhabit  the  World  of  glory,  but  to  rise  to  a  high 
place  in  that  world?  Would  you  stand  near  the 
throne  of  God  and  shout  the  praises  of  redemption  in 
the  loudest,  sweetest,  holiest  strains  that  vibrate 
around  the  arch  of  heaven?  Would  you  aspire  to  an 
intimate  companionship  with  angels,  and  to  all  the 
purity  and  bliss  of  which  your  nature  is  susceptible  ? 
I  say  again,  let  your  heart  and  your  life  furnish  a  per- 
petual exhibition  of  living,  glowing,  efficient  zeal. 
I  am,  as  ever,  your  devoted 

FATHER. 


264  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 


LETTER   XXII. 

IMPROYEMENT  OF  TIME. 

My  dear  Child — The  subject  upon  which  I  am  now 
to  address  you,  may  be  considered  as  including,  in  a 
general  sense,  much  to  which  I  have  already  directed 
your  attention;  for  you  will  instantly  perceive  that, 
as  your  time  is  given  you  to  be  filled  up  with  the  dis- 
charge of  duty,  'so  the  right  improvement  of  it  must 
involve  a  faithful  attention  to  all  the  duties  connected 
with  your  various  relations.  The  general  subject  how- 
ever is  of  so  much  importance  that  I  do  not  feel  wilHng 
'  to  pass  it  over  without  bringing  it  distinctly  before  you. 

There  is  a  fashion  which  prevails  too  extensively 
among  all  classes,  of  killing  time ;  and  as  this  is  an 
evil  into  which  many  persons,  and  even  many  professing 
Christians  fall  without  being  aware  of  it,  it  may  not, 
be  amiss  that  I  should  put  you  on  your  guard,  by 
mentioning  some  of  the  ways  in  which  life  is  frittered 
away  without  the  accomplishment  of  its  object. 

One  very  effectual  means  of  killing  time  is  by  sleep. 


IMPROYEMENT  OF  TIME.  255, 

It  is  true,  indeed,  that  a  certain  degree  of  sleep  is 
necessary  alike  to  the  physical  and  intellectual  con- 
stitution :  it  is  the  kind  restorer  of  the  human  faculties 
from  a  state  of  exhaustion,  and  is  an  evidence  ahke 
of  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God.  No  doubt  also 
an  individual  may  err  in  taking  too  little  repose ;  as 
he  may  thus  not  only  abridge  his  period  of  usefulness, 
but  his  amount  of  exertion  during  that  period :  for  if 
he  bring  to  his  work,  no  matter  what  it  is,  faculties 
that  have  lost  their  elasticity  through  the  want  of 
sleep,  he  may  indeed  keep  himself  busy,  but  there  is 
reason  to  fear  that  he  will  be  busied  in  a  way  that 
will  be  little  better  than  killing  time.  But  the  error 
to  which  I  designed  here  to  refer,  is  that  of  excessive 
indulgence  in  sleep.  And  the  evil  of  this  in  respect  to 
the  loss  of  time  is  twofold :  not  only  the  time  which 
is  occupied  by  sleep  is  lost,  but  the  mind  acquires  a 
habit  of  drowsiness  or  indolence,  which  greatly  abates 
the  vigor  of  all  its  operations.  That  different  constitu- 
tions may  require  different  degrees  of  rest,  there  can  be 
no  doubt ;  how  much  is  necessary  in  any  given  case  is 
to  be  ascertained  only  by  experiment ;  and  every  one 
ought  to  make  it  a  matter  of  conscience  to  consume 
as  little  time  in  this  way  as  is  consistent  with  the  most 
healthful  and  vigorous  state  of  the  faculties. 

Another  means  not  less  effectual  of  killing  time,  is 
the  indulgence  of  a  wandering  imagination.  It  is  an 
employment  to  which  some  minds  are  exceedingly 
attached,  to  suffer  their  thoughts  to  wander  uncon- 


256  XiETTERS  TO  A  DAUG-HTER. 

trolled  in  any  direction  they  may  happen  to  take. 
Sometimes  they  may  fall  into  one  channel  and  some- 
times into  another;  but  let  them  assume  whatever 
course  they  may,  no  effort  is  made  to  direct  or  restrain 
them.  To  say  nothing  of  the  fact  that  where  such  a 
habit  exists  there  must  be  many  trains  of  thought 
which  could  not  be  uttered  without  an  offence  to  the 
purity  and  even'  the  decorum  of  virtue,  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  nearly  all  these  operations  of  the  mind 
partake  deeply  of  vanity,  and  are  unworthy  of  an 
accountable  and  immortal  being.  At  the  same  time, 
useless  and  sinful  as  this  employment  is  in  itself,  it 
occupies  the  fleeting  moments  of  man's  probation — ^mo- 
ments that  were  given  him  to  prepare  for  eternity. 

I  may  instance  vain  conversation  as  another  means 
of  frittering  away  time.  The  social  principle  which 
was  implanted  for  the  most  important  purposes,  is  too 
often  brought  into  operation  for  purposes  which  God 
and  reason  and  conscience  unitedly  condemn.  But  to 
say  nothing  of  the  more  flagrant  vices  of  the  tongue, 
who  does  not  know  how  strong  is  the  tendency,  I  may 
say,  in  most  persons,  to  indulge  jn  idle  and  frivolous 
discourse  ?  Such  a  habit  is  exceedingly  fitted  to  dissi- 
pate the  mind ;  but  the  least  you  can  say  of  it  is,  that 
it  is  attended  by  a  criminal  waste  of  time.  It  is  rob- 
bing one's  own  understanding  and  heart :  it  is  robbing 
God. 

And  the  same  evil  is  accomplished  by  light  and 
foolish  reading.     I  have  elsewhere  dwelt  so  much  upon 


niPE-OVEMENT  OF  TIME.  25t 

this,  that  I  allude  to  it  here  only  as  it  stands  connected 
with  the  loss  of  time.  And  there  are  no  persons  proba- 
bly who  are  more  liable  to  fall  uato  this  error  than 
young  females.  Many  of  them  will  even  consent  to 
deprive  themselves  of  Sleep  for  the  sake  of  going 
through  with  some  ridiculous  love-story,  or  following 
out  the  fortunes  of  some  imaginary  hero,  as  they  are 
depicted  in  a  novel.  If  you  should  ever  find  yourself 
engaged  in  this  miserable  employment,  just  pause,  at 
least  long  enough  to  inquire  of  your  conscience  whether 
that  be  the  purpose  for  which  your  precious  time  was 
given  you. 

But  if  you  would  do  your  whole  duty  on  this  sub- 
ject, you  must  not  only  avoid  the  evil  of  which  I  have 
been  speaking,  but  you  must  actually  use  your  time  to 
the  best  advantage.  Here  again,  suffer  me  to  give 
you  tvfo  or  three  directions. 

Be  careful  that  your  time  is  employed  upon  objects 
of  real  utility.  It  is  possible  that  an  uidividual  may 
be  very  active,  and  in  a  certain  way  may  brmg  much 
to  pass,  and  yet,  after  all,  may  have  no  good  account 
to  render  of  his  time,  inasmuch  as  it  has  been  bestowed 
upon  objects  of  little  or  no  moment.  It  is  not  enough 
that  the  object  to  which  your  efforts  are  directed 
should  not  dkectly  interfere  with  the  interests  of  any 
of  your  fellow-creatures,  or  that  it  should  exert  no 
{positively  bad  influence  upon  yourself:  it  should  be 
something  from  which  you  or  they  may  reap  some 
positive  advantage.    In  selecting  a  sphere  in  which  to 

Let.  to  Daugh.  1  ^ 


258  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

occupy  your  time,  you  ought  indeed  to  have  respect 
to  your  peculiar  talents ;  but  you  should  be  certain 
that  it  is  a  sphere  of  real  usefulness. 

If  you  would  use  your  time  to  the  best  advantage, 
I  hardly  need  say  that  you  must  form  a  habit  of  per- 
severing diligence.  This  is  essential,  not  only  because 
you  thus  crowd  into  a  given  period  the  greatest  amount 
of  useful  exertion,  but  because  the  faculties  are  thereby 
improved,  and  rendered  capable  of  more  vigorous  and 
successful  exercise.  Make  it  a  rule,  therefore,  never 
to  allow  yourself  to  be  idle,  when  your  health  and  cir- 
cumstances will  permit  you  to  be  active.  K  you  once 
form  an  industrious  habit,  you  will  never  afterwards  be 
able  to  content  yourself  in  a  state  of  inactivity ;  and 
on  the  other  hand,  if  you  begin  life  with  a  habit  of 
indolence,  you  will  probably  never  after  acquire  a 
rehsh  for  vigorous  exertion.  In  whatever  circum- 
stances Providence  may  place  you,  take  care  that  the 
whole  of  your  time  be  employed ;  and  consider  the 
first  inroads  of  indolence  as  a  melancholy  harbinger  of 
the  wreck  of  your  usefulness  and  the  loss  of  your  repu- 
tation. 

There  is  one  caution  however  which  I  would  suggest 
in  connection  with  this  point — ^it  is,  that  you  should 
never  suffer  yourself  to  be  in  a  hurry.  Let  the  de- 
mands upon  your  time  be  ever  so  numerous,  endeavor 
to  keep  your  mind  perfectly  composed,  and  address 
yourself  to  your  various  avocations  as  calmly  as  if  you 
were  insensible  of  their  pressure.    The  moment  you 


IMPROVEMENT  OF  TIME.  259 

become  agitated  by  care,  you  well-nigh  lose  the  power 
of  doing  any  thing  to  purpose.  Your  thoughts  under 
such  an  influence,  will  fly  off  to  the  winds,  and  a  dis- 
tracted state  of  feeling  will  ensue,  which  will  effectually 
palsy  every  effort.  Be  as  diligent  as  your  health  will 
admit,  but  never  suffer  your  exertions  to  be  embar- 
rassed by  the  apprehension  that  you  have  more  on 
your  hands  than  you  shall  be  able  to  accomplish. 

And  this  leads  me  to  say  that  very  much  will  depend 
on  your  having  your  duties,  so  far  as  possible,  reduced 
to  system.  There  is  a  way  which  many  good  people 
have  of  taking  things  at  random ;  seeming  to  be  satis- 
fied if  they  are  only  in  a  field  of  usefulness,  whether 
they  are  laboring  to  the  best  advantage  or  not.  In- 
stead of  taking  a  deliberate  survey  of  the  field  into 
which  they  are  cast,  and  the  various  duties  which  de- 
volve upon  them,  and  assigning  to  each  set  of  duties 
an  appropriate  time,  they  take,  every  thing  as  it  hap- 
pens to  rise ;  and  as  a  matter  of  course,  not  unfre- 
quently  find  themselves  overwhelmed  by  such  an  accu- 
mulation of  cares,  that  they  are  in  precisely  the  state 
of  which  I  have  just  spoken — they  know  not  to  which 
duty  to  give  the  precedence.  If  you  take  care  to 
cultivate  order  in  the  discharge  of  your  duties,  you 
will  not  only  accomplish  more,  and  accompUsh  it  with 
greater  ease,  but  there  will  grow  out  of  it  a  beautiful 
consistency  of  character,  which  will  of  itself  be  an 
important  means  of  ilsefulness. 

If  you  need  motives  to  urge  you  to  the  faithful 


260    •  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

improvement  of  your  time,  let  me  remind  you  of  your 
responsibility  to  God.  Your  time  is  one  of  the  talents 
which  he  has  intrusted  to  you,  and  for  which  he  will 
,  ere  long  call  you  to  an  account.  Each  moment  is 
part  of  the  precious  deposit ;  and  it  bears  its  report 
for  or  against  you  to  the  bar  of  your  final  Judge.  Ke- 
member  that  he  requires  that  your  whole  time  should 
be  spent  in  his  service  and  to  his  glory.  If  you  would 
meet  him  to  render  an  account  of  your  stewardship 
with  confidence  and  joy,  see  to  it  that  you  practically 
recognize  his  claim,  and  live  under  an  abiding  sense  of 
your  obligation. 

Kecollect  too,  that  the  improvement  of  your  time  is 
immediately  connected  with  the  improvement  of  all 
your  other  talents.  If  your  time  is  wasted,  so  also  is 
the  vigor  of  your  intellect ;  yoiir  powers  of  speech  are 
perverted ;  your  moral  and  religious  privileges  abused ; 
and  your  whole  influence  turned  into  an  improper 
channel.  If  you  waste  your  whole  time,  you  of  course 
throw  yourself  into  a  current  that  will  bear  you  rapidly 
to  perdition:  just  in  proportion  as  you  waste  your 
time,  you  accumulate  materials  for  a  fearful  reckoning, 
and  if  you  are  a  professed  Christian,  you  render  it 
probable  that  your  hope  will  be  as  the  giving  up  of 
the  ghost. 

Kemember  further,  that  the  time  is  short.  Should 
your  life  be  protracted  to  the  period  of  old  age,  you 
will  say,  at  its  close,  that  it  was  only  ''as  a  watch  of 
the  night,  as  a  dream  when  one  awake  th."    But  o^ 


IMPROVEMENT  OF  TIME.  261 

this  you  can  have  no  assurance ;  and  the  only  con- 
clusion which  analogy  warrants  is,  that  you  will  proba- 
bly not  reach  an  advanced  period.  And  need  I  say 
that  even  now  some  of  your  last  moments  may  be  on 
the  wing?  Has  the  improvement  of  your  past  life 
been  such  that  you  can  review  it  with  peace  and 
approbation  ? 

But  after  death  is  the  judgment.  When  time  is 
past,  then  comes  eternity ;  and  your  improvement  of 
the  one  must  lay  a  foundation  for  your  condition  in 
the  other.  With  this  solemn  thought,  I  take  leave  of 
the  subject,  earnestly  praying  that  your  time  may  be 
spent  in  such  a  manner  that  it  shall  be  good  for  you 
and  for  others  that  you  have  lived. 

Your  affectionate 

FATHER. 


262  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 


X 


LETTER   XXIII. 

PREPARATION  FOR  DEATH. 


My  dear  Child — There  is  scarcely  any  tMng  in 
human  experience  which  at  first  view  strikes  the  mind 
as  so  difficult  to  be  accounted  for,  as  the  utter  insensi- 
bility which  the  mass  of  mankind  manifest  on  the  sub- 
ject of  death.  That  death  is  an  event  of  most  solemn 
and  momentous  import,  whether  it  be  regarded  in  its 
physical  or  its  moral  bearings,  no  rational  mind  can 
question.  Nature  herself  renders  a  testimony  to  this 
truth  in  that  shrinking  and  shuddering  which  the  spirit 
feels  when  it  is  actually  entering  into  communion  with 
this  king  of  terrors.  But  who,  with  an  eye  upon  the 
world,  can  fail  to  perceive  that  this  event  is  but  little 
thought  of ;  and  though  the  grave  itself  is  continually 
speaking  forth  its  rebuke  to  human  thoughtlessness 
and  infatuation,  and  though  friendship,  strong  and 
tender  in  death,  often  pours  out  its  earnest  expostula- 
tions to  the  living  to  prepare  to  die,  yet  the  mass  of 
the  world  slumber  on  till  they  are  startled  by  the  foot- 
steps of  that  messenger  whose  mandate  they  cannot 


PREPARATION  FOR  DEATH.  263 

resist.  This  surely  is  not  wisdom.  It  shows  the  des- 
perate madness  of  the  human  heart.  It  shows  that 
man  is  guilty,  that  he  is  afraid  to  hold  communion 
with  the  future,  to  enter  into  the  secret  chambers  of 
his  own  soul,  and  ponder  the  prospect  of  a  retribution. 

But  if  the  great  majority  of  mankind  manifest  an 
absolute  aversion  to  the  contemplation  of  death,  it 
must  be  acknowledged  that  even  those  who  profess  to 
be  the  disciples  of  Christ,  and  to  regard  death  as  gain, 
do  not  live  as  might  be  expected  in  view  of  it.  They 
think  of  it  too  little,  converse  about  it  too  little,  pre- 
pare for  it  too  little.  Here  again,  the  secret  of  this 
is,  that  they  love  this  world  too  well,  and  even  though 
they  are  partially  sanctified,  they  have  too  little  sym- 
pathy with  the  objects  and  interests  and  glories  of  the 
world  which  the  eye  of  faith  sees  beyond  it. 

There  is  a  preparation  for  death  which  devolves 
upon  the  unforgiven  sinner,  of  mighty  import.  There 
is  charged  against  him  in  the  book  of  God^s  remem- 
brance an  awful  catalogue  of  crimes,  which  he  can  do 
nothing  in  the  way  of  merit  to  expiate.  His  heart  is 
the  seat  of  corrupt  propensities  and  affections,  which 
render  him  utterly  incapable  of  the  joys  of  holiness. 
If  he  die  with  this  character,  nothing  awaits  him  but 
that  indignation  and  wrath  which  the  Bible  has  de- 
nounced upon  the  ungodly.  His  preparation  for  death, 
therefore,  must  consist  in  having  his  offences  cancelled 
by  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  his  heart  renewed  by  the 
Spirit  of  Christ ;  in  other  words,  in  a  compliance  with 


264  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 

the  requisitions  of  the  gospel,  by  repentance  towards 
God  and  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  These  requi- 
sitions once  obeyed,  he  is  in  the  most  important  sense 
prepared  to  die.  It  is  not  indeed  certain  that  he  will 
die  triumphantly,  or  even  die  peacefully,  for  he  is  yet 
but  a  babe  in  Christ ;  but  it  is  as  certain  as  the  testi- 
mony of  the  Highest  can  make  it,  that  he  will  die  to 
live  and  reign  with  the  Kedeemer  on  his  throne  for 
ever. 

There  is  also  a  preparation  for  death,  though  of  a 
somewhat  modified  character,  that  devolves  upon  the 
Christian.  For  notwithstanding  the  soul  which  has 
once  experienced  the  transforming  power  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  is  sealed  to  the  day  of  redemption,  yet  it  has 
still  much  of  remaining  corruption  to  struggle  v/ith, 
and  is  far  from  being  adorned  with  the  beauty  of  per- 
fect holiness.  With  the  Christian,  then,  preparation 
for  death  consists  not  merely  in  possessing  a  principle 
of  grace,  but  in  keeping  it  in  lively  exercise ;  not 
merely  in  being  able  to  recur  to  seasons  in  which  the 
love  of  Christ  was  shed  abroad  in  his  heart,  but  to  feel 
the  precious  influence  of  this  love  daily  and  habitually. 
It  is  true^  as  I  have  said,  that  every  behever  dies  a 
safe  death ;  but  it  is  not  true  that  every  one  dies  in 
the  exercise  of  a  triumphant  and  elevated  faith  ;  and 
some,  no  doubt,  as  a  chastisement  for  theu*  neglect  of 
duty,  are  left  to  die  under  a  cloud ;  and  perhaps  are 
in  actual  horror,  till  they  emerge  from  the  cloud  which 
their  own  guilt  has  spread  over  them,  into  the  bright 


PREPARATION  FOR  DEATH.  265 

light  of  an  everlasting  day.  Every  believer  ought, 
every  believer  may  avoid  the  evil  of  dying  in  darkness. 
Let  him  keep  his  lamp  trimmed  and  burning,  and  his 
passage  through  the  valley  of  death  will  brighten  into 
a  scene  of  heavenly  illumination. 

You  cannot  fail  to  perceive  that  it  is  a  matter  of 
infinite  moment  that  you  are  prepared  to  die — pre- 
pared in  such  a  sense  that  the  thought  of  death  shall 
never  be  unwelcome,  and  the  approach  of  it,  however 
unexpected,  instead  of  filling  you  with  alarm,  shall  be 
hailed  as  the  Karbinger  of  heavenly  glory.  I  am  sure 
that  you  aim  at  something  higher  than  even  to  die 
safely :  you  desire  that  your  death  may  speak  forth 
the  all-sustaining  power  of  the  gospel ;  that  in  dying 
you  may  bring  some  honor  to  Him  whose  death  is  the 
price  of  all  your  hopes  and  joys,  of  your  entire  redemp- 
tion. Let  me  then  give  you  two  or  three  brief  direc- 
tions to  aid  you  in  making  this  most  desirable  attain- 
ment. 

Meditate  frequently  and  solemnly  upon  death.  If 
it  comes  up  before  the  mind  only  occasionally,  and  at 
distant  intervals,  the  certain  consequence  will  be  that 
it  will  be  regarded  with  chilling  apprehension ;  and 
your  thoughts  will  be  likely  to  fly  from  it,  even  though 
reason  and  conscience  strive  to  detain  them.  Let  no 
day,  especially  let  no  evening  pass,  which  does  not 
witness  to  your  visiting  in  thought  the  grave.  En- 
deavor to  become  familiar  with  this  subject  in  its  vari- 
ous parts  and  bearings,     ^teditate  on  the  certainty  of 


266  LETTERS  TO  A  DAUaHTER. 

the  change  ;  on  the  nearness  of  its  approach  ;  on  the 
circumstances  which  will  probably  attend  it ;  the  part- 
ing with  friends,  the  dropping  of  the  earthly  tabernacle, 
the  pains,  the  groans,  the  dying  strife,  which  may  be 
crowded  into  the  last  hour ;  on  the  amazing  scenes 
which  must  open  upon  the  spirit  the  moment  death 
has  done  its  work,  and  on  the  riches  of  that  grace 
which  secures  to  the  believer  a  complete  victory  in  his 
conflict,  and  a  triumphant  entrance  into  heaven.  Let 
this  course  of  meditation  be  conducted  in  the  most 
practical  manner  possible ;  let  it  all  come  home  to 
your  own  bosom  as  a  matter  of  personal  concern  ;  and 
the  effect  of  it  will  be  to  make  the  world  appear  in 
its  true  light,  and  to  transfer  from  time  to  time  some 
new  affections  from  earth  to  heaven. 

Beware  of  the  world.  Beware  of  its  seductive  flat- 
teries, its  pestilential  maxims,  its  unhallowed  practices. 
Eemember  that  the  spirit  of  the  world  is  directly  op- 
posed to  the  spirit  of  the  gospel ;  and  that  both  cannot 
find  a  permanent  lodgement  in  the  same  bosom.  If 
the  world  attempt  to  seduce  you  by  its  smiles,  dally 
not  with  the  tempter  for  a  moment.  If  it  attempt  by 
its  frowns  to  wither  your  good  purposes  and  bring  you 
into  subjection,  in  the  strength  of  almighty  grace 
march  forward  to  the  conflict,  and  the  world  will  re- 
tire and  leave  you  the  victory.  Have  as  little  to  do 
with  the  groveUing  and  polluted  scenes  of  earth  as  you 
can,  in  consistency  with  your  duty.  Kise  above  the 
world  and  try  to  breathe  the  atmosphere  of  heaven. 


PREPARATION  FOR  DEATH.  26t 

Thus  you  will  use  it  as  not  abusing  it ;  and  all  you 
have  to  do  with  it,  instead  of  retarding,  will  actually 
advance  your  preparation  for  the  grave. 

And  instead  of  multiplying  directions  on  this  sub- 
ject, I  may  say  all  in  one  word,  if  you  would  be  pre- 
pared to  die,  cultivate  a  spirit  of  devoted  piety.  Aim 
constantly  at  the  fulness  of  the  stature  of  a  perfect 
person  in  Christ.  Let  every  Christian  grace  be  in  you 
and  abound  ;  endeavor  to  let  it  be  in  you  in  its  utmost 
perfection.  Give  to  the  Saviour  the  unreserved  hom- 
age of  your  heart,  and  the  entire  obedience  of  your 
life.  Follow  him  through  good  report  and  bad  report, 
and  count  it  a  joy  and  an  honor  to  bear  his  cross. 
Let  your  soul  always  be  a  temple  for  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  be  filled  with  the  fulness  of  God.  Such  a  life 
constitutes  true  preparation  for  death.  Live  thus, 
and  you  will  have  nothing  to  do  in  your  last  hour  but 
to  resign  your  spirit  into  your  Eedeemer^s  hands  and 
die  rejoicing. 

With  these  brief  directions,  designed  to  aid  you  in 
your  preparation  for  death,  I  now  take  my  leave  of 
you.  And  surely  there  is  no  subject  with  which  I 
might  more  properly  conclude  these  letters  ;  for  this  is 
the  point  in  which  they  are  all  designed  to  terminate. 
Whatever  other  purpose  might  be  answered  by  them, 
it  would  be  with  me  a  matter  of  little  moment,  pro- 
vided they  should  have  no  effect  in  preparing  you  for 
death  and  eternity.  I  here  repeat  what  I  said  at  the 
beginning,  that  though  you  should  possess  every  ami- 


LETTERS  TO  A  DAUGHTER. 

able  quality,  and  every  accomplishment  wMch  your 
friends  could  desire,  I  could  contemplate  your  condition 
only  with  the  deepest  concern  and  sorrow,  if  I  were 
compelled  to  regard  you  a  stranger  to  godliness,  and 
exposed  to  perdition. 

Let  me  entreat  you  then,  my  dear  child,  as  you 
regard  the  tenderest  sensibilities  of  a  father's  heart,  as 
you  regard  the  hopes  which  were  formed  in  respect  to 
you  by  a  mother  who  loved  you  and  blessed  you  in 
death,  and  as  you  regard  the  wishes  and  prayers  of 
another  mother,  who  has  watched  over  your  infancy, 
and  cherished  and  counselled  your  childhood — ^let  me 
entreat  you  to  endeavor  to  conform  your  character  to 
the  standard  which  has  been  exhibited  in  these  letters. 
Let  me  only  see  this,  and  I  am  sure  I  shall  never  cease 
to  bless  God  that  I  have  written  them.  Give  me  but 
this  joy,  and  though  I  should  be  called  to  leave  you 
while  you  are  yet  young,  in  this  cold,  ungrateful  world, 
I  could  leave  you  without  a  chill  of  apprehension,  fully 
persuaded  that  you  would  enjoy  the  gracious  protection 
of  God  while  here,  and  mingle  in  the  refined  and  noble 
communion  of  the  redeemed  hereafter. 

That  the  perpetual  blessing  of  a  covenant-keeping 
God  may  rest  upon  you,  is  the  most  earnest  prayer  of 
Your  devoted 

FATHER. 


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LATELY  PUBLISHED 

BY  THE 

AMERICAN  TRACT  SOCIETY. 


REV.  JEREMIAH  HALLOCK, 

REV.   PHILIP  HENRY, 

WILLIAM  TUTTLE, 

LADY  HUNTINGTON  AND  HER  FRIENDS, 

MRS.   MARTHA  SHERMAN. 

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AXD 

A   GREAT   VARIETY 

OF 


BEAUTIFUIiliY  ILIiUSTKATED, 


4)  ('f-fH  y 


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